4 comments/ 270747 views/ 9 favorites Dungeon Slave By: snuffalupicus I’ve been working for the F.B.I. now for seven years, dealing with kidnappings. It’s surprising how often it happens. There are approximately 17,000 cases per year in the U.S. ; that's about 50 people being kidnapped every day. I work mostly with testimonials; listening and taking notes directly from the abductees themselves. For the most part, I record what is reported and organize it into detailed reports for the certain departments that require the information. Most of the investigators who work here are not experienced enough, or just can’t ask the questions that are needed to bring out the best results. They don’t have the capability to bring out the trust in a person who has been mentally and physically abused. Mostly they don't have the stomach for it. I am able to keep my job owing to my stoicism in dealing with the very often gruesome details; the colleagues I work with on an every day basis know that I’m good. They appreciate my ability for bringing out the best results in any given situation. What they don’t know is that I actually like what I do. Case number: KF215973 Name: Denise Joan McThaniel. Once a kidnapped person is found, we need to bring them in to testify while their memory is still fresh. The state pushes for quick psychological treatment and assessment; after the shrinks are done with them they’ve personalized everything that they went through. This makes them focus on how they feel about what happened, and usually deludes their memories of what really happened. Sometimes the psychology actually helps to get through some mental blocks, unlocking what their minds won't let them remember. Though I would argue that the repressed memories never come out clean.They’re partial and filled with fiction that they use to complete a memory they can never completely recover. Denise disappeared when she was 23 years old; she was living and working in L.A. California. Her car had been discovered near a coffee house that she was known to frequent. Five months after she disappeared, she was found naked, walking down an interstate in Arizona. She entered the room where I was waiting from the lobby; a blank look glazing her eyes. Denise turned out to be a generally pleasant looking tall, thin brunette. She was wearing a black skirt and a blue flower print blouse with a v-neckline; revealing her cleavage. Old scars lined the top of her breasts and her hair was very short, it was only an inch or two long at most. It looked like the kind of cut they give military boys when they enlist, still, it worked for her. I could tell that it was an old work outfit from before she was abducted; it being somewhat loose on her. It’s common for someone to lose weight when kept in isolation for long periods of time. There were scabs on her neck and wrists; cuts and scrapes visible on the bare skin which was showing. She sat down with poise and good posture, not even a glance at me when she took off her sunglasses. "Good afternoon Miss McThaniel. My name is Agent Michael Allen. Do you know why you’re here?" I asked. She responded quickly and clearly, "Yes, you’re going to question me about the kidnapping." "Would you like anything before we begin?" I asked. "No, thank you Mas.. " She stopped short of finishing the sentence before continuing, "No, thank you Mr. Allen." She cringed slightly. "Don’t hesitate to ask if you want anything during the interview; food or water, a break perhaps." As I turned the tape recorder on, I kept my voice even and without much emotion as I continued, "Do you remember being abducted?" "Yes." She responded, looking at me. "I remember it well." As I met her eyes for the first time I saw that she had been left with another cruel mutilation. A pair of scar lines slicing straight down the middle of each eye, from just above her eyebrows to an inch beneath the eye. Her black pupils were deep with suffering. Mercifully, she had not been blinded. "Tell me what happened on the day you were kidnapped." I asked. "I was walking towards my car when he came from behi.." I cut her off in mid speech. "Tell me what happened during that day, leading up to the attack." I instructed her as I picked up her medical report. Photos had been taken of her entire body. For the amount of abuse written on her skin she still had an undeniable beauty. "Yes sir. I was working that day. I had a job at the Del Taco office building; I was in advertising. I had long styled hair, with highlights. I was the picture of commercial beauty. Everyone loved me at work, the men hovered around my desk every day. I gracefully turned down all of their advances, my career was the only thing I cared about. I got off work at 6p.m. and drove to Long Beach. Im an alumni at CSULB. I used to go to a coffee shop in the city, to study. After graduating from college, I would still sometimes go there. I had always been comfortable with the casual, drowsy feel of the place. `Not having a date or anything else to do that night, I went to the coffee shop to read a book; ‘The Postman,’ I think it was. That's another book that's just so much better than the movie. Of course they always are. I knew a few of the regulars there, among them was a guy named Rich who had always wanted to go out with me. He had made a lot of money working as a lawyer, (I think that he thought I would be impressed) and talked with me about it for a while. It was not very exciting at all, mostly personal injury cases. He did tell funny jokes though. As he talked about work, I drank my coffee and stayed until about 10p.m., closing time." Turning her head to the side, Denise lay her head down on the table, sighing. "And that was ‘Portfolio’ the coffee shop?" I enquired. "Yes sir." She confirmed, raising her head and nodding. "Go on." I prompted. "I was the last person to leave because Rich kept me talking outside for half an hour. I told him that I had to work the next day and told him goodnight. He asked me if I wanted him to walk me to my car, I told him I’d be fine and said no. He got into his car, waved and drove away. Long Beach is a very dark city at night; I had never had a problem before, but I began to think that maybe I should have taken him up on his offer. I started walking to my car, a little more shaky from all the coffee I had. The light was dim, I hoped that all of the shadows would keep to themselves. I never heard anything or sensed anyone behind me until the last moment. Turning around, I saw a man wearing a dark black or blue mask. He was wearing an orange T-shirt that tightly gripped his chest, revealing how strong he was. His pecks popped out in between his sinuous shoulders and arms. He pointed a silver gun at me and growled "Shut up or die. Turn around." My heart leapt out of my chest. My worst nightmare was happening. I could barely breath. I did what he told me to. He grabbed my hands and duck-taped them. He did it really hard so that my wrists hurt, twisting them. I asked what he wanted, but he taped my mouth closed. I started crying and screaming through the tape. He put his mask on me back to front so that I couldn’t see a thing at first. We had probably walked only about twenty feet when I heard a car door being opened. I could see enough through the cloth to tell that it was a dark colored van. He threw me into the back of it; it had thick padding with no windows and it was separated from the front. Once inside the van, he taped my feet together and coldly whispered, "From this moment on your name will be ‘Bitch.’" Before getting out and closing the door, he grabbed my breasts and pinched my nipples. He laughed at me. He seemed very pleased. The car started moving but I couldn’t hear the engine; it was like being en-caved. I think it was soundproofed. I don’t know how long I was in the van. I was awake for a long time before I finally faded." "Go on. What happened when you woke up?" I prompted "I woke up to find myself half naked, legs held up near my head and my hands tied behind my back; a pair of leather underwear on me. There were dildos attached inside; one was in my vagina, the other in my ass. They were big and gosh, it hurt to have both of them in me like that. I was also gagged with a leather strap that had a short, thick dildo in my mouth. I was groggy and my legs hurt because of the way they were positioned. It was so cold that I had goose bumps. I noticed that my hair had been cut short. I was in a basement, dangling from the ceiling in a netted leather harness. Looking down, I was about thirty feet up and hung almost ten feet from the ceiling. The room was a cube; forty feet at each angle. The only illuminations were thick blue neon lights that lined every corner. I was in his dungeon of depravity, and I was not imprisoned alone.There were others hanging from the ceiling too, one man and two women. They were also naked and more or less bound the same way as I. They were all attractive people by the looks of it. One of the women was a blond, the other had brown hair. The guy was a blond and very well toned. The others saw that I was awake and shook a little in their bonds. I took it as a kind of greeting. I shook myself to signal back. We stared at each other for a while; I saw that they had red marks and scars on their bodies. When I looked below, I saw some furniture and one door. There were cameras on all the walls in the room, pointing up and down. Ten foot long movie posters; like military banners were hung all around the room. Amongst them was a porno poster called ‘Blood and Leather.’ I also recognized ‘Silence of the Lambs’ and ‘Natural Born Killers.’ I heard the door unlock and a white man entered. He was wearing a black leather outfit; his penis sticking out of the crotchless pants. He seemed to be of the same build as the man who grabbed me and was holding a remote in one hand, a whip in the other. His hair was short and brunette. I started to come down when he pointed the remote up at me. He undid my bonds when I got to him and I pulled the gag out of my mouth, coughing. He watched me as I unplugged the dildos out of myself; the texture was mercifully moist as they came out. It felt like they had been lubricated. My limbs were like concrete, getting them flat on the ground felt like my tendons were going to tear. I looked up at him with fear and wonder at what nightmare I had been taken to. I asked him where I was. "This is your new home, Bitch. Now turn around," he said. "No!" I screamed. I started to stand up and tried to punch at his exposed groin. He easily fended off my attack; He twisted my wrist and backhanded me hard across the face. I was weak and fell to the ground. "Bitch, do not disobey. Now you must be punished to show the others what not to do. I’m gonna hurt you now Bitch because you’ve forced me to." He was yelling at me, but he didn't seem angry, just... authoritative. His dick was getting hard; it was big. He smashed me in the face again, puffing up my eye. Then he jumped on me and pushed me onto my stomach. He bound my hands in front with thick handcuffs that had little blinking lights on them and then he pulled me up. "Please, no!" I yelled, flailing with all my strength, mad with fear. He carried me over to the wall where he clipped my cuffs to the attachments on the wall, placing me with my back to it. My voice was shaking, " No, no. This isn't happening. please don't do this please! I make a lot of money, you can have it all. I'll give it to you! I'll give you anything you want." I couldn't control my sobs, tears flowed freely down my face. He smirked, and laughed at me, " I don't care about money. I have more than I could ever spend, and I've already taken what I want from you, ... almost everything. I'll get to the rest before long. " He took the whip off his belt and snapped it in the air, making a loud cracking sound; like a firework next to my ear. A big red welt stood up in a line across my chest as he lashed me with it. It was like he had cut a hole through my chest. I writhed in my bonds. He smiled evilly and rubbed his hard penis, pumping it. He slapped his thigh and cut another line into my stomach. I yelled bloody murder. I was covered in sweat, and it ran into the raw marks, stinging. I screamed out, "Please, I’ll do what you want, please!" Ignoring my pleas, he continued to whip me. I pulled at my cuffs and stretched away from the wall; as I was standing slightly sideways another lash marked my delicate flesh across my side. That one drew blood. He said sternly, " Bitch, stay still and accept your punishment." Shaking, I tried my best to comply. I closed my eyes. He had whipped me five times before he finally stopped and walked over to me against the wall. Smiling wickedly as he came towards me he hissed, "You will address me as Master and you are not allowed to speak unless I ask you a question. Is that understood?" I had been crying the whole time that he had been whipping me. I was still crying as I tried to answer through my sobs, "Yes Master, oh my dear God yes!" He looked at me and said, "You know, this doesn’t have to be the worst experience for you. In fact, if you behave nicely now this could turn out to be quite exquisite. I am pleasure or pain, you decide which." He had the physique of a gymnast and was a very fit man. I could tell when he rubbed his body up against mine. I hated him. He made me wince as he traced his fingers over my welts, his dick on my thigh. Straining against my bonds, I could feel myself becoming moist and a part of me started to enjoy the sensation of his hand sliding down to my vagina. He started rubbing me there with his fingers; he was very skilled. I didn't want him to touch me, but it was much preferable to the alternative. I felt myself giving in, there was nothing else I could do. He parted my labia exposing my clitoris to the cool air. It perked up to his caress. Looking me in the eyes he teased, "Do you like that, Bitch?" Not wanting him to hurt me anymore and at the same time unable to avert my eyes from his dick I moaned, "Yes Master." He kissed me on the mouth and through his lips, he whispered, "Be honest with me Bitch, you don’t have to lie. Disobeying me will only bring you more punishment." I hesitantly replied, " I don't like my choices, but this feels better than the alternative Master." He nodded, then his face came close to mine and he circled my lips with his tongue, wetting it and delighting my nerves. His free hand floated down my back and glided around my butt. He stuck his tongue in my mouth and I sucked on it lightly. In my mind he was becoming a different person. Instead of my torturer I fantasized that he was my love. I had to, to deal with what was happening. Releasing me from the restraints that had kept me upright against the wall; he grabbed me by the hair and pushed me down onto my knees. Pushing my face into his crotch he breathed, "You’re going to suck me now Bitch." Taking his dick into my mouth and trying not to choke I moaned, "Yes Master." He knew that I was starting to gag but he was relentless; pushing into my mouth harder all the way into my throat. I grabbed his bare ass, squeezing it to take my mind of my gag reflex. Pulling himself out, he yanked me to my feet and bent me over the back of the nearby couch, my ass naked and vulnerable before him. Spreading my legs wide, he placed the head of his cock on my anus. I felt something cold on my asshole that dripped down my leg. He rubbed the lube around and in my ass with a finger. He plunged in without warning blasting my sphincter wide. He started to fuck me hard. I’d never been fucked in the ass before and it hurt like hell. He pulled my hair, jerking my head backwards. I wanted to scream for him to stop but I didn't, not wanting to be punished for speaking. He moaned, "I love your nice tight ass. Tell me to fuck your ass hard Bitch!" His dick was so hot; he seemed to be ripping me apart, bruising me deep inside. I caught my breath and said, " Fuck my ass hard Master! Cum in my ass!" He roared loudly as he came; his cock still embedded in me as he tried to get his breath back. Trembling now after his onslaught, I obeyed when he ordered me to sit on the couch. It was blue plastic and it felt cold, making me shiver. I felt weird; his cum seeping out of my ass, sticking me to the plastic beneath me. My anus throbbed and gaped open. Recovering his breath, he ordered, "Whenever I tell you to do something I want you to reply 'Yes Master'. Now, spread your legs Bitch." I obeyed replying, 'Yes Master' once again. I opened my legs to him spreading my pussy wide. Its engorged lips were opened like a tropical flower. I was already turned on as he got down on his knees and began to lick my thighs and work my clit with his tongue. In spite of myself, I groaned, 'Yes Master'. He started caressing my breasts, massaging them and softly pinching my nipples. He looked up from between my wide open legs and smiled that evil grin again; once more returning to lap my clit in tantalizing circles." I could see the sweat beading up on her cleavage. She was reliving her story like most people never do, but I for one was certainly not about to stop her. Encouraging her I said, "Go on Denise, you’re doing extremely well." She continued, "I could sense that he was hard again. He pulled me up and pushed me lengthwise on the bed next to the couch, crushing me beneath his weight. He pulled off his vest, laying his hard chest against mine. He put his cock in slowly, its head pushing me open. He was much thicker than any man I had ever been with. He started fucking me slowly now; wanting me to enjoy it, waiting for me to cum. I arched myself up and pulled him towards me as he plunged his dick in and out in rhythm. It felt so good inside that I wanted him to do it to me harder and faster. He yelled out, "You like this now, don’t you Bitch." "Yes Master! I screamed out, feeling him slam so hard into me. The slapping sounds were urging me on, enticing me. Our sweat had mingled and stung the welts that crisscrossed my chest. I came so hard when he spurted deep into me again. I felt sickened. He had made me cum with a passion and intensity than anyone before him ever had." Denise opened her eyes and looked at me, embarrassed. After clearing my throat I managed to say, "Please continue Denise. No one’s judging you here." She thanked me. "After he was done with me I pleaded with him to let me go home, that I wouldn’t tell anyone. I just simply wanted to go. He stared at me and told me never to ask him that again." Denise looked at me again with a new shine in her eyes; those same eyes that only a few moments earlier had been so dull before the interview. "I’d like to go now Mr. Allen." she said. I nodded, "Of course my dear, please make an appointment with my secretary for tomorrow. All the personal details that you have just related to me will not go to waste, you were most helpful. You’d be surprised at the evidence we can uncover from such intimate descriptions... very often leading us to making an arrest." "Really?" she asked as she stood to leave. "I think I know the reason why he doesn’t seduce women in bars to get them into his van; he doesn’t lie to capture them." I thought aloud. Looking at me in wonder she asked, "How do you know?" I stood up. "Don’t you see?" I searched her eyes and she calmly stared into mine,"He never lied to you once when he had you did he?" I asked. She smiled and her eyes wandered in a far off way, "No, never." I searched her with my gaze. I wanted to understand what she was feeling, and who she had become," He lied to me." I said, turning away from her and sitting down at the desk. Dungeon Slave Ch. 02 A cool,‭ briny‬ gust of wind blows a plastic grocery bag down the street ahead.‭ ‬The yellow overhead lights cast a corpse-like color over Denise and Jonas-Joe Lee,‭ ‬the FBI man given her as proof against harm and fear.‭ ‬Stopping for a moment Denise tilts her chin upward,‭ ‬her view going from residential horizon to stucco margins and‭ scraggly‬ tree tops to a blinking black canal of space and cosmos overhead,‭ ‬branching off here and there just out of periphery to perpendicular avenues.‭ ‬It's three AM.‭ The whispers of distant hollering,‭ ‬car sounds,‭ ‬and wind winding through the aging structures around them return her to a time before,‭ ‬a time of innocence and ignorance,‭ ‬a time of less and more.‭ Denise speaks at Jonas-Joe with the directness of a drunk, "What should I call you then Mr.‭ ‬Lee‭? ‬Funny,‭ ‬I can't get out of my mind thinking with a last name like that a man should descend from Asia or be sporting some out of date mustache and rebel cap marching into a Civil War bloodbath.‭" Jonas-Joe is white, with shadowy deep set eyes, short black hair and face pocked with a half dozen minor acne scars. In company with the marks of a painful adolescence was one other, starting on his right jaw near the ear it was a thick off-color line that came to end somewhere beneath the collar of his grey shirt. Jonas-Joe was directed to travel with Denise Joan Mcthaniel in plainclothes, no need to blatantly tip off anyone who might be watching. Behind her Jonas is being spied by eyes below Denise's breasts peeking from an arched bend over backward.‭ ‬Jonas-Joe catches himself being drawn to the dark space between those pert tits falling askew,‭ ‬trying to escape from that dated thin silk shirt.‭ ‬Correcting his attention,‭ ‬Jonas-Joe turns to the side eying the shadow layered street.‭ He says simply, "The boys just call me JJ miss.‭" She stretches out her arm up at the sky, ‭ "‬I haven't stared at the night sky in wonder in so long a time I feel I might fall into it.‭ ‬This space of the open face of the world feels strange to be in,‭ ‬like I should fly out and up just by reaching a bit too high.‭" ‬Denise shakes her head,‭ "‬That's no name for a man,‭ ‬a strong man who carries death, cocked and ready.‭" ‬Turning to face him she steps into his space and asks,‭ "‬I like Jonas,‭ ‬ok‭?" He meets her level eyes,‭ ‬nodding, transfixed by this strange woman who seemed so unlike the women and people Jonas had met thousands of, as if she was from a foreign land with different customs and values. He sighs and points ahead, "‬Of course ma'am.‭ This was your place before you were kidnapped." She runs her hand over her scalp, the strands of hair just growing back now only an inch long springing back to stiff vertical position as released, "That's right, my second prison in life." He looked at her with concern. He knew she had once been an upstanding corporate business woman, now she seemed strange and would have trouble blending back into the normal world, "It's too bad you can't have your old place back, they've rented it to new tenants. Maybe we could talk to them in the morning and see if they would be willing to be moved to another unit." Denise gives a little laugh at that, "It's not my home anymore. That place is in the past Jonas, a dream to me. I would no more try to fly than try to be that person again or live in that space." Then with a cry that will surely wake many of the sleeping citizens nearby she shouts, "Denise Joan Mcthaniel is dead! I piss on her stupidity and her common frailty!" She turns to the startled Jonas-Joe, and says with a wicked grin, "Just call me Dee Jonas, I'm no corporate zombie. I spread my legs wide to the universe and feel it all fuck me with it's shape and texture and vicious little bits of experience. I won't ever be afraid of it again." She starts walking away then, into the middle of the street and away from where they had parked. Just as Jonas-Joe begins to follow her the light of one of Denise's neighbor's apartments lights up and it's front door opens. Out stumbles a man red eyed and walking clumsily. Jonas-Joe has his priorities and turns back to keep his assignment from getting killed or lost. The man in his bath robe yells out at the plodding woman in her small skirt and flower-print silk shirt, "Do you know Denise?!" The man begins jogging up to close the ground between him, Jonas, and Dee. Denise stops and spins around another wry smile painting her face, she speaks in a dizzying seductive voice now, "Is that you neighbor Jack?" Before he can respond she steps back to the curb letting a car move around her, it's occupant glaring out the window at the scene, one not so odd for the city of Long Beach, city of malcontents, blazers, drunks and vegan princesses, gays and literary cliches walking around each and every corner. Dumbfounded, Jack Keller had no presence of mind to turn any of a jumble of thoughts into words. Dee moves into him and speaks as she comes into embrace, "Neighbor Jack it's been what seems like a long time, and yet you're still here like an old stone growing moss from lack of rolling." To emphasize Denise rolls her hand that had run it's way up Jacks back around his neck and through his half inch long tufts of beard. Finally Jack gathers a fraction of himself in order that he might speak louder than a moss covered stone, "Denise, what happened to you? The police interviewed me, somewhat interrogated me actually, I thought you were dead!" Dee looks back at Jonas and gathers up a pitiable look, and then turns back to Jack holding the expression, "Oh yes Jack I think that girl you're talking about did die, but I am her descendant come to you to tell you all about it." She bends in close to his ear and whispers again in her sultry seductive siren tones, "We really should catch up.. right now. You're still single from no lack of trying to find the right kind of slut aren't you?" Jack just nods in confirmation. He looks over toward Jonas-Joe to gather any kind of direction he might. The policeman merely shrugs, having no intention of getting in Denise's way so long as he's able to keep tabs on her. She had barely allowed a man to be assigned to her in the first place. Only when the suggestion of some time in psych treatment was brought up, and she got a look at Jonas did she concede the point. Denise speaks to Jonas then without turning to face him, "You'll be waiting in the car won't you Jonas, keep a girl safe from bad men in the night?" Rolling his eyes Jonas replies, "Of course madam I will be here when next you've decided you wish to go somewhere." Dee then takes her old neighbor by the hand and leads him quickly to his door smiling widely as he closes it behind them, "You'll have a drink to make for your dear old friend, lady Dee, now won't you Jack?" Tripping over himself to get to the kitchen of his two bedroom apartment he responds a bit hoarsely at first just finding his voice after having woken from an insubstantial rest, "Sure thing Denise. What'll you have? Funny I never served you a drink in that whole time we lived next to each other I don't know at all what you like." She gives him a doubtful look, and says offhandedly, "I suppose we'll see there neighbor Jack. For the drink I'll have brandy up straight if you have it, just make sure it's more than a triple and fuck the rocks." Jack blows out a surprised shot of air. This was not the Denise he had known only six months ago. Denise Joan Mcthaniel had been a nice, rather typical career girl. She only came inside Jack's place once to get a look at his paintings he was always going on about being tough work, his enduring struggle and that sort of thing. She had thought they were terrible, and of course they were terrible. Attempts at representative art that matched not at all what was being attempted: a cat, a pot, a leaf, a mangled self portrait mostly with some flat color as background. He had always hoped he might find a way to get with the woman but she had had little interest in reciprocating his flirtations. Now here she was with strangely short hair, and washed away of all reservations she once had. ‭Jack was slowed sorting out the drinks from having to pull out all his favored liquor first to get to what he considered the awful kind: brandy, and having to find a glass clean enough and nice enough looking to offer the beautiful Denise, who for once after two years they had lived next to each other had finally given him the time of day. Now she leaned up to him and whispered in a bedroom voice suggestive things that got his old woody all woody. Now she rubbed his face like it were a dog's collar. He didn't necessarily admit it straight out in his mind but he was straight enough to be suddenly paying attention to details that somewhere in his mind were inspired by a hope of getting pussy. Interrupting a strange dance of speculative images floating through Jack's mind came Dee's ringing voice from somewhere in the direction of the living room, "I know you wouldn't let a girl drink alone Jack, you'll have something to toast me with of healthy proof won't you love?" Making a crinkling facial retort nevertheless Jack doesn't miss the right timing to respond, "I wouldn't dream of it Denise. I'm thinking I'm too sick to work in the morning anyway." Finally Jack wades through the mess of his apartment with two short glasses one filled near to the brim with the brown brandy, the other with a whiskey sour three parts whiskey one part sour. Realizing that Denise was not in his living room he called to see if she was in the bathroom, "In the bathroom there Denise? Sometimes the tank chain falls off and you have to open..." Dee interrupts before he can finish the plumbing guide to Jack's apartment, "Not pissing or fudging in your fish bowl Jack just watching some video on your computer, here let me unplug the headphones!" Denise pulled the cord out of the front of Jack's desktop computer tower, switching the output to the surround sound speakers. The video spat out script through the voices of actors strained by distraction, a lack of talent, and proper training in the thespian arts, "Oh my God! Oh my God! Yes! Fuck me with your black dicks! Fuck my dirty cunt!" "Yeah that's right bitch. Take both!" "Oohhoooh!" "Jizz all over the mother's face! Make her daughter watch it! You like that don't you Courtney?" "Oh yeah my pussy is so wet! Now let me suck your cum and my mommy's cunt juice off your cock!" Denise sits there with the glow of the computer screen illuminating her face with a calm look, and says teasingly, "You really are a very bad man neighbor Jack, you know the kind of industry you're supporting by patronizing this sort of misogynistic filth?" Jack stood there completely at a loss for words. Denise smiles and turns back to the screen saying with a new tone in her voice, a strong tone, "Now Jack come give me my brandy and come sit on the floor here next to me in your office." Jack stands now at a loss for action, the strangeness of it all taking away his ability to initiate the next move for several moments, finally he makes words to offer into the scene, "Uh, are you serious Denise? You're acting so strangely." Denise smiles wickedly at him, and says in a gentle yet firm tone, "Neighbor Jack, now you aren't going to resist me in this now are you?" Jack begins thinking very hard now about what should have been an easy decision: play along and maybe get laid, or be more responsible, more considerate to someone who might be quite out of her mind. He struggles with it but something in his mind tells him to try to do the right thing, "I think you're going a little fast for me here Denise. Maybe we should go back to the living room and talk for awhile about where you've been all this time." Denise smiles an innocent smile and then calmly responds seeming to concede the moment but in fact rebutting Jack's proposition, "I think it's better this way too Jack." He sighs in relief and starts to turn toward the other room, but stops as she continues her thought, not bothering to turn off the porno, it's unignorable sounds a cacophonous background to the interlude, "You know what they say about rape Jack, it's not the sex the predator is after. It's the control, the feeling of power over another human being. Something like the god complex a doctor or soldier has knowing that someone's life is in their hands." He turns back now to the sight of his handgun leveled at him in the hands of beautiful Denise. Her eyes glow at seeing his dumbfounded look. "I'm sure I could have seduced you Jack, gotten you to part the soft flesh between my legs with a bit of coy pleasantry on the couch, slowly letting you play the male role and pursue me over the course of a trite conversation. I'm drying up just thinking of it, how bored I am with that game. I want to play a new game Jack." He starts to back away. Jack's voice shaken he says, "I don't like this Denise.. maybe you should.." Standing furiously Denise's other hand, her left, shoots out and slaps Jack's cheek, then reverses back handing him, her knuckles crunching his nose from the side. Jack falls backward and hits his head on the doorjamb the drinks splashing on the floor amid a spray of blood from his nostrils. Denise smiles again, "That's better, I prefer you down there on the floor. A good position for groveling." Jack's eyes peer up in disbelief, and dread, now that he begins to fully appreciate the precariousness of his position and the authenticity of this predator he had first taken to be perhaps yes an unbalanced girl playing a dirty game with him, but not one so dangerous to justify the terror overcoming him, "I don't want to hear your voice again except to hear you say: Yes, my owner. Is that understood? Or should I just shoot you now since you are clearly too senseless to learn?" He responds as ordered, "Yeh, yes, my owner." Denise advances the gun on Jack, "You understand and prefer to live and do as I tell you and not be shot then?" This time he answers more quickly and clearly the sound of the porno reaching ever more scintillating portions of the plot. The coppery taste of blood in his mouth, "Yes, my owner." Pulling the gun back pointing to the ceiling Denise slowly rolls her tongue over her lips contemplating for a moment, "Strip. Let me see what if anything you will have to offer me." Reluctantly Jack stands and takes off his clothes, the shirt first, then the shoes are kicked off followed by the pants and the cotton boxers. His dick flops out. It's a respectable girth, something substantial and promising, if merely slightly above average. She says without sarcasm, "Not awful Jack. I can work with this." Already his member shows a tightening of the skin and withdrawal of the foreskin from the head, "It's so rare to see the primitive uncut penis now a days, was your mother a contemporary heretic of some denomination?" Unsure of whether or not he should reply, or how he should reply he remains silent, "You may tell me without punishment my property." His voice now takes on a more diplomatic tone, a pathetic tone with fragile inflection hoping to illicit compassion, "She didn't really go to church. But the reason I wasn't circumcised was because of a large artery in the foreskin as far as I understand it." Standing up from the chair she takes the step to reach him and grabs the half erect dick in her slender seemingly fragile hand. Running her hand softly over the foreskin she finds the bulging artery with her index finger. Her finger runs down the scrawled line the vein makes halfway down the now flexing, saluting cock, ‭"Oh yes, this would bleed terribly wouldn't it? I can just imagine it squirting like a male menstruation leaping blood all over the place." The excited tone in her voice made Jack quiver. There was no telling what she might do. Holding him at his position with her left arm Dee backs away to sit back in the office chair. Hiking up her skirt she reveals the absence of any panties. Her pubic hair is neatly shaved into several vertical stripes, "Do everything I say for the rest of the evening, and I won't update your cock head's fashion there okay neighbor slave?" Pausing for the moment it takes Denise to flash her look of demand and expectation Jack replies, "Yes my owner." Denise spreads her legs toward her new servant, ‭"I hope you eat cunt well, you don't want to disappoint me." Jack wipes his nose on his forearm and slowly lowers down to his knees only to have his hair grabbed hold of and yanked down into Dee's watering spread. Jack wastes no time being timid not wanting to tempt further aggression. He runs the tip of his tongue round the flesh bordering Ms. Mcthaniel's clit, "That's good Jack, soft and teasing it out. Like my college age cousin did in the attic when I was twelve. Maybe if you're as good as Marc was I'll let you stick your cock in it like he insisted on." Releasing her hold on Jack's hair Denise lets him feel the cold touch of the gun barrel against his temple with the other. Jack runs his tongue broadly over the swath of her pussy, softly easing it up above her clit and down to her melting hole, the hair of her pubic stripes brushing his nose. ‭At such an intimate distance though it is too dim to see much of anything Jack can feel the firmness of scars along her thighs, long linear marks some running toward her sex and others across in perpendicularity. Denise has now shifted her entire focus onto Jack, abandoning the virtual reality of the PC for the captive humanity before her, "That's a good little boy Jack. Show mommy how her little boy loves eating her cunt out." Denise pets his head like she might a cute little animal, cooing him on, coaxing his proper behavior out. Denise's hips begin to rock with the lapping, her left hand now grabbing at Jack's hair and pulling him hard into her. So tight against her pussy is his mouth that moving his tongue through each licking motion begins to hurt from the strain of it, "Don't slow. Eat that fucking cunt!" Dee whips him on the temple with the barrel of the pistol, coercing him on. As her orgasm builds her hips rock and jerk the chair, it's wheels rolling back and forth. Then she pushes it back behind her, dropping to the floor and pulling Jacks head down with her. "OOOuhharuh!!" As she cums Ms.Mcthaniel claws at Jack's head leaving raw marks on his face and scalp. ‭Losing no time Denise pushes him on his back and leaps on him voraciously. She grabs his throbbing cock with her left and sets it, then slides the length of it up into her dripping snatch. Jack finds himself in a daze as if in a raunchy dream, the pleasure a strange anesthetic blurring out any pain. His hands find their ways to her sides pulling her down onto his engorged dick. Within moments Jack moans, "Oh Denise, Oh god I'm cumming!" Dee pulls out his exploding cock, cum soaks her silk shirt, pasting it to her tits and stomach. Giving him no reprieve she forces it back in despite Jack's squirming, ‭"It's not going to be that easy for you, you still have work to do." His dick tingling like hell, he grits his teeth and bears the relentless cunt fucking it. Denise Works her crotch up and down riding him like a galloping horse. Her snatch is tight and soaked with her natural lubrication, only making the discomfort worse. Slowly that fades and Jack drifts back into his raunchy dream giving back as good as he's getting it. They settle into a steady motion, coming together with combined effort, his dick driving deep into her, it's head brushing up against her uterus. She settles into a tight rhythm, with short strong staccato squats onto his renewed member. ‭Without stopping she unbuttons her shirt, unclips her bra with one hand and sloughs them both off. Her pert medium sized breasts are pointed with light pink colored quarter sized nipples. They resist the forces pulling them to bounce wildly up and down, their firmness maintaining their shapes, "Fuck that dirty cunt! Fuck mommy's cunt! Fuck her cunt!" locked into the determined routine Ms.Mcthaniel's snatch is beaten bruised by the onslaught, Jack's dick flying up like a fisting uppercut, over and over again, spreading her hole wide. As her body turns rigid, setting like quick-dry concrete Jack knows her orgasm is mounting. Her eyes close and the rhythm grows ever more constricted until they are only very forcefully moving out half an inch and then back together with a selacious slapping sound. Within only several minutes Jack had reloaded, his cock feeling every dimension of her hole, it's wet hot mouth of sex, with a tongue of a uterus licking his cock's head with every tight thrust. Grabbing her hips tight he redoubles his effort for the final leg of the penetrations. With the gun under her left hand propping her up and her left reaching around to ram 3 fingers into her ass Denise's whole body begins to shake. She cries out, "ahhaugh, Fuck it!, Fuck! I'm cumming!... I'm coming.. for.. you Branagan!" Biting his lip Jack speeds his strokes up, his cock filling up Ms.Mcthaniel's cunt with a watery second stream of cum, "You're dead ohaugh, Fuck! Fuck you Branagan.. fu..k ya..oooou." Dungeon Slave Ch. 02 The extruded viscous fluids pool around Jack's crotch and pubic hair. Finally his dick is allowed to diminish. Reaching up Jack finds himself kissing Denise. She loosely flays her tongue around inside his mouth, gently brushing his cheek with her left hand. Then she slaps him hard with it, knocking him dizzy. "Don't ever think you're anything but a cock to me!" Cupping his chin she brings him back to face her, "Is that understood!?" Despite a momentary hesitation, he responds like a good piece of property, "Yes, my owner." A sudden knocking on the door startles Jack. Denise gets up to answer the concerned call of Jonas-Joe Lee, "Are you alright Ms.Mcthaniel?" She swings the door open wide brazenly standing naked and painted in body fluids, "Don't I look like I'm alright officer Lee?" Dungeon Slave The door opened, " Goodbye, Mr. Allen. I'll see you tomorrow." The door closed and she was gone. This is the one. Her kidnapper is the man I'd been searching for for five years. I closed her file, and stood up. "You have been busy haven't you Billy. It's been too long since we've talked." The kidnapper was once caught, but because of a lack of evidence we had to release him. He went into hiding after that, and his current whereabouts are unknown. His name is Billy Jenice Branagan. As one of my first assignments, I was to get him to admit his crime in the kidnapping, and murder of Sandra Thomas. I never did get his confession, but during the interviews he claimed to sense a familiar scent in me. The casual comment sparked an undermining of my faith in my life as I had been living it. Since I have divorced and become an alcoholic. In Denise I once again have access to Billy. I'm hoping the interviews we have may help me understand him, and myself. By Snuffalupicus ( To be continued)