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Kidnapped

By: DJ



I slowly opened my eyes and tried to peer through the fog in my mind. My head was pounding, my vision blurred. The glaring light overhead gave no clue as to where I was. The last thing I remembered was having a drink in that bar and talking to the gorgeous redhead. The only thing I knew for sure was that I was on my belly. I tried to roll over, to escape the incessant pounding behind my eyes. But I couldn't move. It was then I realized my hands were tied over my head. I was in a bed. My feet were strapped to the brass bars at the foot of the bed and my hands were strapped to the brass headboard and I was naked as a jay bird.

"Where the hell am I?", I thought to myself. I looked around the room and realized I was in a large bedroom. The furnishings were all antique. The heavy, old, wooden furniture that yuppies like to surround themselves with. The room was luxurious. Thick, teal carpeting covered the floors. A dressing table stood on the other side of the room with an oval mirror and lots of perfumes, lipsticks and other items that a woman would use to pretty herself up, for whatever occasion arose. I was in a woman's bedroom. What the hell is going on here? Then I heard it. Music. Something soft and generic. It was coming from the other side of the door.

I yelled out, "Hello?" Nothing. I yelled again. Still nothing. Suddenly the door opened and in strolled the redhead from the bar. She was wearing a white lace bra and panties with thigh high, white stockings. They left nothing to the imagination. In spite of the predicament I was in, I couldn't help but admire the beauty that stood before me.

"What's going on here," I asked. "What do you think you're doing?"

She looked at me with a sarcastic smirk on her face and replied, "Well sweetie, you and I are going to have a little fun, well I'm going to, but maybe you won't."

"It all depends on what you're into, dear." Then I knew I had been drugged and brought here.

"Now, I want you to listen to me very carefully", she said. "You are going to do whatever I say. If you don't, my little friend here will cut your balls off." With that, she brought her right hand from behind her back, revealing a knife with a long tapered blade. It looked very sharp.

"What is it you want," I asked.

"I want you," she said, "and I want you the way I want you. And when I'm done with you, you will be released and you'll never know where you were, or who I am. Is that understood?" I could not believe this was happening. But, hey what could be so bad? She wanted to have sex with me? Ok. So she's a little kinky, I thought to myself. What's the harm? This could be fun.

Then she came close to the bed, leaned over and kissed the back of my neck, she nuzzled my ear. She ran her hand across my back in a slow, circular motion working her hand lower on my back with each circle. I turned my head to face her and she kissed my lips. A long, deep passionate kiss. The kind that lovers give to each other. Her left hand worked its way down to my buttocks. Her fingers probed the cleft there and gently fondled my balls. Oh, God it felt good. I raised my hips slightly to allow her better access to me.

I felt my cock begin to respond to her ministrations. She climbed up on the bed to the headboard, removing her panties as she did so. My face was about 2 feet from the head of the bed giving her ample room. I was completely erect now. She lowered herself down 'til her pussy was right before me and said, "eat me, baby", and thrust her hips forward until her wet pussy was clamped over my mouth. I went for it. I licked her, sucked her clit, tongued her, sucked her labia and wrapped my lips around her luscious clit like I was giving her a blow job. She loved it. Her hips were bucking, she was moaning and thrusting so hard I thought she was about to cum. But then she stopped and stood.

She ordered me to kneel. I did so. It was a little uncomfortable, but I managed. This raised me about a foot and a half off the bed. She said, "you liked my pussy, didn't you?" I nodded yes. She tasted very good. Her juices had filled my beard and I could smell her in it. Then she slid her body under me in the classic 69 position and wrapped those luscious, swollen lips around my still throbbing, engorged penis. I was staring at her pussy, so I went for it again. I pushed my tongue as far as it would go into her as she bobbed her head up and down on my shaft. God, I was in heaven.

I made slow humping motions over her face as she sucked me. She was moaning now, as she sucked my balls into her mouth. I was almost there when she stopped and slid out from under me. "Not so fast, honey. We're not done yet." She walked to the closet. A huge walk-in, and disappeared from my view. A few seconds later she emerged, holding something in her hands. I couldn't see it. She went to the foot of the bed out of my eyesight. I heard her doing something, but I had no idea what she was doing. The she appeared in front of me again. She had removed her bra, still wore the stockings, only this time she had some kind of belt on. No, it wasn't a belt.

In mounting terror I realized it was a strap on dildo! It was at least 7 inches long! My God, she was going to fuck me! I couldn't believe it, I was going to be raped! No, no, my mind screamed. She looked at me and said, "now the fun begins." She climbed back on the bed, got behind me and began by licking my balls. She worked her way up to my ass hole, spread my buttocks apart and licked around my nether hole. Despite my fear, my cock remained rigid as she worked her tongue into me. She fucked me with her tongue as my hips moved back and forth in time with her tongue. My mind said no, but my cock said yes.

She leaned over to the night stand and found some lubricant she had there. I felt her smear it around my ass hole and she worked her finger into me. My ass puckered with each thrust of her hand. Then I felt her position herself between my legs. I said, "please don't do this, please."

She remained silent. She reached around my side and grabbed my cock and began to stroke me. The lubricant in her hand made my cock throb as she worked me. Then it happened. I felt the tip of the dildo at my hole. She gently worked it in as she continued to masturbate my throbbing dick. Then she did it. She entered me fully as I screamed from the pain. Ohhh, God no! She had stopped all motion except for her hand on my penis.

She stroked and whispered in my ear, "relax, baby, relax, the pain will go away." I tried to relax my sphincter as she continued to stroke me. I couldn't believe I was still hard. Then it happened. The pain began to subside, my cock swelled. She began to work the dildo in and out, slowly. As it moved past my prostate, back and forth I could feel the excitement growing in me. I was confused, I was actually enjoying this.

She humped me harder, faster, I moaned, I groaned, "yesss fuck me, fuck me gooood, fuck me, baby, fuck me. Ohh, it felt sooo goood. I could feel the dildo as it ran up my ass into my bowel. I exploded in her hand as the sperm shot from my swollen, throbbing cock and covered the sheets below me. I heard her groaning behind me and realized she was cumming also. She bucked in me and thrust me forward and I fell on the bed as she came. I was laying in my semen. We were both panting now, as we slowly came down form our sexual high. My eyes opened with a start. The room was dark. I was alone. But the room had a familiar feel to it!

"What the hell?" Something cold and wet was under my belly. I reached down and came up with a handful of cum. It was my own. Then reality struck me like a thunderbolt.........I was in..... my own bed......I had had.... a..... wet... dream!

Kidnapped



The morning sun was already hot as I emerged, bleary eyed, from the motel room and faced the day. It was going to be a long one, I knew. A vast tract of parched desert stretched almost endlessly between us and the more welcoming coast - our final destination. I could hear my wife, Christine, busy inside the room, packing the few items that we had used for the one night stop-over. I stretched my arms above me and yawned, letting the warmth of the sun bathe and caress my torso. Time to move on again.

After a light breakfast of coffee and eggs I fired up the 4X4. She seemed to be running a little rough, I thought. But I paid it little attention, the car was almost new and, so far, had been completely faultless. Anyway, only two or three days more driving and we would be at our new beach-front home. I'm sure it was the thought of long, lazy evenings watching the sun go down over the ocean that had kept both Chris and I going through the long journey.

As the morning progressed, so the temperature began to soar. The air-conditioning was already turned up to full power, but even then the inside of the car was hot and sticky. The radio played an endless selection of Country music and the monotonous scenery was nearly enough to send us to sleep. By midday I was about to suggest that Chris might like to drive for a while, when I heard a noise from the engine. Even above the radio it sounded bad, and in my experience, bad usually meant expensive! As I pulled the car over to the side of the road, the engine died completely.

The silence that seemed to cloak and envelop us was eerie. No traffic, not even bird sounds, just the ghostly whistle of the light breeze that fluttered and swirled the road dust around us. I looked north and then south along the straight line of the road. Nothing moved. Just silence.

"Is it bad?" called Chris from the passenger seat as I looked at the confusing array of wires and components in the engine compartment.

"Well, it won't go! I think that's bad enough, don't you?" 

I immediately regretted my snappy tone of voice. It wasn't her fault. "Sorry, darling. Yes, I think it's bad."

"What are we going to do?

"I guess we'll just have to sit tight and wait until another car passes. We must be at least a hundred miles from any form of civilization, there's no point in trying to walk."

The only shade around was inside the car, and with no conditioned air we were both soaked through with sweat within a few minutes. Fortunately, Chris had thought to bring several gallon jugs of water with her, and the cool liquid kept us refreshed and fairly high spirited for nearly an hour.

The only sign of life came after nearly ninety minutes. Chris heard the noise first; a low rumbling from the north.

"A car!" she cried, jumping out of our vehicle to see.

I quickly joined her and we both stood on the side of the road shielding our eyes in an attempt to spot the vehicle. Sure enough, in the middle distance we could see the front of a truck driving towards us accompanied by great plumes of dust on either side. Frantically, we both started waving our arms about as the vehicle drew nearer: A big eighteen wheeled rig, gleaming chrome frontage. Finally, amidst swirling dust and the hiss of air-brakes, the truck slowed to a halt just in front of us.

"You folk's in trouble?" called a voice from the drivers window. 

It was difficult to make out the man's features beneath the obligatory baseball cap and dark glasses. "You need some help?"

The driver jumped from the cab accompanied by three other grubby looking men. It looked like they had been on the road for some time.

"Mike here's pretty good with engines. He'll take a look for you."

I was grateful, but didn't hold out much hope of him being able to fix the problem on the side of the road. After he had made a brief inspection, my fears were confirmed.

"Nah, fuel line's broke!" Mike drawled as his head re-appeared from the dark recesses of the engine.

For a moment the four men, Chris and myself all looked at each other in silence.

"Little town about ninety miles south." The trucker said scratching his chin. "Could give you a ride as far as there. Garage service there should be able to sort you out!"

Both Chris and I breathed a sigh of relief. I thought for a moment they were going to leave us on the side of the road. The driver himself looked and sounded friendly enough, but the others were a little worrying, I wasn't sure I liked the way they seemed to be mentally assessing the value of my car. But we had little choice; sit out here and fry, or accept the ride. 

As soon as the truck reached cruising speed, I regretted our decision. My concerns about the drivers crew seemed well founded as the mood in the cab soon began to change. I was about to say something when I heard a click and noticed that the cab doors had been automatically locked.

"Hey! Wait a -" I started.

My words were cut off abruptly by a fist being slammed into my chest. Doubled up in some considerable pain, it became more difficult to register what was now going on in the cab. Noise seemed to be coming from all directions; swearing, screams from Chris and shouts from the driver.

"Everybody SHUT THE FUCK UP!!" he suddenly yelled.

The cab quickly fell into silence.

"Just give us your cash and credit cards, man, and we might just let you live!" he smirked at me.

"No, man!" interrupted the taller member of the crew. "They've seen us. Seen all of us. We gotta get the cash and dump them, man. Out here they won't stand a chance, they'll be dead inside two hours."

"Okay, okay, maybe you're right. Fine, we'll just dump them. But not here on the road, another car could pass and pick them up. I know an old deserted house nearby, we'll take them there!"

I felt a pair of steel handcuffs being slipped over my wrists and a old rag was stuffed into my mouth and held in place by duct tape. I looked over at Chris, surprised to see that she wasn't crying, she seemed to be handling the situation well. The thought that Chris had never really wanted to move out here in the first place, struck me hard at this point. This situation must have just been the icing on the cake for her.

Another forty minutes drive and we approached a small, deserted shack stuck out in the middle of nowhere. Was this to be the last place we would ever see? A strange melancholy swept over me, I guess the type of inner peace that only accompanies a feeling of hopelessness. Chris and I were quickly bundled out of the cab and onto the dusty track that led to the broken front door. The fact that I was manacled and gagged and Chris was not, struck me as a little odd. As the man I remembered as Mike suddenly spoke up, my worst fears were realised.

"Hey, Hank. We got some time, how about a little fun with the bitch before we leave?"

This was a dread that had been playing around in the back of my mind ever since I was punched. I had tried to ignore it, but the situation was now very real: they were going to rape my wife.

"Sounds like a good idea." Replied the driver, "but what about him?"

"Let's make him watch!" Mike laughed in reply

The four men seemed quickly decided on their course of action and Chris and I were bundled in through he door. They wasted no time and I found myself thrown into a hard-backed chair and re-handcuffed with my wrists behind me attached to the chair's frame. I struggled to free myself but it was a vain attempt; I could hardly move.

"Strip the bitch!" Cried the driver, Hank. "Let's see what she's got!"

I could feel my face burning red with frustrated anger as my wife simply stood in front of her assailants and allowed them to disrobe her. Being so hot, She wasn't wearing much at all and the process of removing her blouse, shorts and underwear took less than a minute. I couldn't quite understand why Chris was letting all this happen without any sign of a struggle - I just supposed that this was her way of dealing with the situation.

The men were not prepared to be idle spectators for long. Two of them quickly lifted my wife off her feet and placed her, unceremoniously, on her back atop an old table in the centre of the dingy room. A third man began tearing the tattered tablecloth into strips and was soon joined by the fourth as they used the pieces to tie Chris's wrists and ankles to the table legs.

Her legs were spread wide as they worked silently, the only sounds being heard were the occasional soft moans that escaped my wife's lips as she felt fingers or lips brush her exposed breasts and inner thighs.

Once their work was complete, the men stood back briefly to admire their work; Chris looked helpless spreadeagle on the table with her thighs spread wide and her most private area exposed for all to see. Her large breasts seemed to tremble and quiver in the half light and I was shocked to see her nipples standing firm and hard atop the milky white slopes. And then the zippers started to come down. Hank and Mike were the first to get in on the action and the two burly men took up positions at either end of the small table. Hank stood between her outstretched legs, looking down at her with a smirk and playing with a solid looking erection. With one hand on her breast he moved forward and penetrated her roughly. Christine's lips parted with what I thought was going to be cry, but the sound that escaped could only be described as a contented moan of pleasure. Could she actually be enjoying this, I wondered?

Meanwhile, Mike's pants were around his ankles and he was bent over my wife from above. His lips closed over her free breast and suckled the hard, pointed nipple noisily. I could see that his cock was also stiff and swollen as it protruded from between his muscled legs. Again, Chris moaned out in ecstasy leaving me - and the others - in little doubt as to her true feelings.

"Sound's to me like your little slut is enjoying this!" Grunted Hank as he slammed the entire length of his penis into my wife's pussy. "Jeez man, when was the last time you fucked her? She's got a hot cunt that's sucking my dick right into her! Damn! She's so fucking tight!"

His words stung me like a whip. It was true. Chris and I hadn't slept together for over a month. We had been having problems and I thought that this trip would help sort them out. How wrong was I!

And then it happened. The unthinkable. With a deep growling moan that I remembered from long ago, Chris began to shake and shudder as an orgasm began to wash over her body. The pitch of her voice rose as did the volume until, with a deafening cry of satisfaction she arched her back and climaxed hard with Hank's tool still buried inside her. 

My wife's violent convulsions were obviously too much for Hank to control himself further and, with a howl of pure animal lust he yanked his cock free of her pussy and began to spray his sticky load over her belly.

But Chris was to given little rest, it seemed. Quickly untying her bonds, she was flipping over onto her wet belly and retied. Again her legs were well spread, but this time her buttocks as well as her drenched pussy were fully on display.

"Give it to her in the ass, Mike!" Cried Hank to his buddy. "I reckon she really wants it up her!"

Mike smiled and ran the length of his cock through the crease in my wife's buttocks.

"Do you, bitch? Do you want me to fuck your ass for you?"

"Damn, yes!" Chris cried out, vocal for the first time. 

I'm not sure if I was more shocked by the ferocity of her tone or the actual words. I'd certainly never had anal sex with her!

"Yes...yes...yes..." she continued, lustily. "Fuck my ass, Mike. Fuck me hard!"

Now I was in no doubt. My confused mind finally had to accept that my wife was actually enjoying the assault. Really loving it!

With a cry from both Mike and Chris, he thrust his long, thin erection into her waiting, willing anus. His full weight was across her back as he slammed deeper and deeper, harder and harder; just as Chris had requested. Their joint moans and sighs reverberated around the small room as the other men and I looked on fascinated. Unlike his friend, Mike wasn't about to pull out of Christine's body to cum. With trembling hands that gripped her hips he suddenly thrust his entire length into her back passage and moaned deeply. It was obvious from the way that his knees shook and his thighs quivered, that he was filling Christine's ass with a huge amount of semen.

"Shit! That was good, man!" he said as he disengaged himself from my wife. "I aint cum that had for fucking ages. The bitch has got one good ass for fucking!"

With that, Mike gave Christine's rump a light spank. I watched as the flesh turned pink and rippled.

"Go on then you guy's. Let's finish her off!" Cried Hank, still seemingly directing the proceedings. I had almost forgotten that there were still two men left who hadn't experienced my wife's pleasures.

Again, Chris was relocated to a different position; this time tied to a chair on her hands and knees. The two men dropped their pants and approached her. There was no finesse now, no foreplay at all. In one movement the first, slightly taller guy had his cock buried deeply in her pussy from behind. As he entered her, I could see Mike's jism oozing from her dilated asshole. The second guy moved in front of her and cupped her chin in his hand bringing her face up in line with his thick, erect weapon. Chris needed no instructions and as he body bounced around on the cock behind her, she swallowed the one in front of her straight into her mouth.

Fucked from both ends, Chris looked like a rocking horse; back onto the cock in her pussy and then forward to allow the one in front to push roughly into her mouth. She was see-sawed back and forward in this fashion for several minutes moaning around the tool in her mouth as once again an orgasm rocked her lithe frame. The two men seemed to cum almost simultaneously. Chris didn't seem to know where to look for her next delivery of hot, male seed. Her mouth and face were splashed wetly by the convulsing cock that was being aimed directly at her face, and her pussy and buttocks were drenched by the second man that had cum in her vagina. A few moans and groans more and my wife seemed to go limp from exhaustion.

Everyone now sated, the mood in the room seemed to change yet again. My mind was so confused that I don't think I could have strung together an articulate sentence even had the rag not been still gagging me.

"Just give us a moment, will you boys." said Chris as her hands and ankles became easily liberated from their bonds.

My mind somersaulted. What the hell was going on now? Sensing my utter bewilderment, Chris spoke to me quietly.

"George, calm down. I'm fine, really, I'm okay. I'm afraid you've been tricked. This has all been a set up. I met up with the guys last night while you were drinking and they agreed to help me." she continued before I had a chance to protest dumbly. "Our marriage has been in the shitter for a while now, you know that. You gotta stop drinking and pay more attention to me. I need to be loved; mentally and physically - sometimes very physically, as you've just witnessed. You have a choice now, George. Promise to drink less and fuck more and we can just go on to the coast as planned, but choose the bottle and I go back north with the boy's. It up to you George."

Chris fell silent, waiting for my response. I indicated the gag and she gently removed it. I gasped, swallowing in great lungful's of air and coughing violently. I looked up at her naked and semen stained body. There was no choice to make.

"The bottle's gone, Chris." I stated. She smiled. "But I have a condition too."

"Yes, what is it?"

I know you need a lot of sex. Will you promise to fuck other guys as well as me? Today has taught me many things, but one is certainly that watching you get gang-banged is the most erotic thing I have ever seen. Now if you'll kindly take these handcuffs off, I've got a solid hard-on that needs your pussy!"

Christine smiled as she began undressing me. I heard the door close as the boy's went back to their truck a very happy crew. I knew that we would be okay now.



Kidnapped



I was a third year college student; I was on my way home. I was using the back way home because it had less traffic and I taking my time. My car broke down; a navy blue van stops and a nice gentleman asks if he can help. We are standing by the car when I felt a sharp pain in my ass. He has given me a shot; I try to run but my feet will not move. Handcuffs go on my wrist and a mask being place over my face. The mask has a piece to hold my mouth open. I am put in the van and I cannot hear anything. This mask has earmuffs in it; I am mute, blind and deaf. I can feel the left and right turns of the van; the van pulls to a stop. He picks me up like a sack of potatoes and takes into a building, or a house. I feel a exam table .

He removes my handcuffs. The metal clamps go on my wrists. My body is his; he cuts my clothes off with a small sharp knife. My socks and boots are the only things left on my body. He puts vibrating clamps on my nipples; piercing needles going into each nipple at the same time. Nipples rings are in me now. Hot metal hits my skin; "THAT SON OF A BITCH " has branded me. A horse at prize show is want I feel like. He shaves my hold body; I am given a bath. This is turning me on; what is wrong with me.

This bastard put a hose in my ass; warm water is being pushed in. He is washing me out. Needles go into each nipple. My breasts are feeling like they have milk in them. I am alone for hours, or minutes. Then I feel hands on me. I am being checked out; a mouth locks on my tender nipple. Milk is being feed to this person; the person stops. The table turns me face down; the table comes apart. It feels like I am on an X. My legs are pulled apart; Fingers are push in both holes at the same time. I am being finger fuck in my ass and my belly. They at first, fuck me slowly. They stop with each moan.

I am beginning to feel my first orgasm. I am a virgin in both places. They like this fact. They start and stop on clue. This goes on for what feels like hours. They leave the room and I feel like I am going to die. They do not let me release. My socks and boots removed and I feel hot water all over. I am in a tub or that is what I think it is. Ice is put into the water. I am left there in the ice water. Hours later I feel hands washing they and me put cuffs on my wrists and ankles. I am not on the table anymore.

I am lifted from the tub and placed on what feels like a bed. This bed has clips for the cuffs and I am spread eagled on it. A tube is placed in my mouth; liquid flows down it. I have to drink it as fast as I can. This liquid makes me sleepy. I wake up to someone painting my body;

I feel the cold liquid all over me. My nipples react to the cold. A mouth is eased on my left nipple and begins to arouse me in many ways. I receive the treatment on all parts of my body. Smells from the paints are strawberries, bananas, and pineapples, chocolate, and vanilla; I feel like a banana split with the works. I wish I knew what was going to happen next? I am I a desert for a dinner party?

I am being taught what they wish of a sex-slave. Are they are saving my virgin pussy for someone or something special. I feel a needle going in my arm. I knew it is a drug to make me ready for what comes next. My body is burning with a fire but this fire is desire. My next lesson begins; I feel ice being packed around me. My body reacts to the cold. An ice dick is placed in my wet pussy ;Ice is placed on my nipples and taped there. An ice butt plug is pushed in hard. What is going to happen next?



Kidnapped



‘Millionairess, Mrs Joan Bartlett, 34, will be in town next Friday to open the new Children’s Hospice at Hamlet Grove. Staff will be…’ the newspaper article continued to describe how Mrs Joan Bartlett had been a key fundraiser for the new Hospice and all of the effort she has put into helping to raise the £2.1m needed to complete the project.

“Hmm,” Tony read on, “this could be the opportunity we’ve been waiting for.” He lifted the receiver and called Jack.

***

Joan, escorted by her younger sister Jude, was applauded as she cut the red ribbon, formally opening the Children’s Hospice. The ceremony and newspaper interviews over, they drove through the busy city centre, headed for Joan’s health club where she was meeting her friend, Debbie. They stopped off at a café and bought themselves a couple of cold cokes. The sun was hot, and although the climate control in Joan’s Mercedes-Benz SLK500 kept the occupants cool, it didn’t stop them from getting thirsty in the summer’s dry air.

As they headed back to the Mercedes, Joan felt a slight push from behind, then blackness. Someone had grasped hold of her and placed a black pillowcase over her head. She was lifted off her feet and tossed into the back of a van.

A hand covered Jude’s eyes and a voice whispered in her ear, “Quiet bitch, or I’ll snap your neck like a twig.” Jude resisted, a sharp pain on the back of her neck caused her to stop in her tracks. She felt giddy, then, her knees gave way and she passed out. Tossed into the van, Jude landed on top of Joan unconscious. Joan screamed but no one heard her call out as the van drove away and blended into the city traffic.

Joan felt a sting in her upper arm, then moments later she too was unconscious.

***

Jude opened her eyes. She was lying on a mattress in what she could make out to be a basement. The damp walls were covered in very old, peeling woodchip wallpaper, the floor was cold concrete and light came from a 40W lamp that hung from a cobwebbed cord. In a corner, there was a chemical toilet and a bowl with a hand-towel and soap. Next to this was a 10-gallon plastic container that looked like it was full of water. Jude rolled over and sat upright. Joan was asleep on a second mattress. Jude began to sob. She crawled over to her sister, her neck hurting now as she began to remember what had happened in the car park. Joan’s slow, shallow breaths comforted Jude; she brushed her sister’s brunette hair from her face. Joan’s makeup was smudged, but she was still the beautiful one.

Joan had won several beauty contests in her late teens and early twenties; that’s how she met her millionaire husband, Jonathon, a ‘Captain of Industry’ as Joan described him to Jude and their parents the first time they met. Jude had felt that her sister had married for the money. Jonathon was in his mid-fifties, balding and overweight.

Jude, on the other hand, was almost totally opposite to her sister. Jude had married for love. David was an American aid worker who had come to the UK for a holiday after three months of poverty and diseased stricken work in the depths of the Congo. He had no money, but he had an abundance of love for his fellow man and his sense of humour matched that of Jude’s perfectly. A mutual friend, who could see the match was made in heaven, introduced them to each other. Three month’s later Miss Jude Davies became Mrs Jude Heskins. But sadly, it all ended too soon. David was killed the same day as her parents two weeks after their wedding. Whilst out with friends, a motorist drunk at the wheel, lost control of his car hitting David’s MPV, killing David instantly. Jude’s parents died hours later from their injuries when they collided with a wall. The police thought that the couple had lost control after hearing the news of their son’s death. That was five years ago now, but it was still hard for Jude at night, when she remembered her short coupling with David.

Joan and Jonathon had taken Jude into their home after the funerals and made sure Jude was made comfortable. Jonathon even gave Jude a monthly allowance so that she could come and go as she pleased without worrying about money. Joan felt the losses too, but she had Jonathon to lean on.

***

Joan began to come around. “Shh, shh, you’re okay, your okay,” whispered Jude to her sister as she began to shake. The effect of the drug was wearing off and it left Joan with a stinking headache. She instantly remembered the incident in the car park and began to tremble and cry.

“It’s okay Joan, calm down,” Jude comforted her sister. “We’ll be alright.” They held onto each other for comfort.

They could hear footsteps. A key turned in the lock and the door burst open. Standing in the doorway was a man dressed in a black overcoat, wearing a skiing balaclava to hide his face from his captives.

“Ah, so my girls are awake. Good. Now we can get down to business,” he said. He brought two chairs into the room from the corridor and placed them, back to back in the centre of the basement. “Sit,” he ordered.

Shaking with fear, the girls obeyed. He then produced two blindfolds and wrapped them around the girl’s heads. This allowed him to remove his balaclava. “Are you comfortable?” he asked. The girls nodded a yes. “Good. Do not be afraid, I will not hurt you. I suppose you are wondering where you are and why,” he continued. “Let me just say, this will all soon be over. You will be free to leave, and I will be a million pounds richer.”

‘So,’ Joan thought, ‘we are held for ransom.’

“If you give me any trouble, you will pay, one way or another,” he told the girls as he circled them. He could see Joan’s breasts from this angle. Her blouse had unbuttoned itself in the struggle; she was braless. He admired her nipples for a moment, remembering she was once a beauty queen not so very long ago.
“So, just do as I tell you and you will be fine. Are you hungry?”

The girls shook their heads, no.

“There is water in the corner to drink, some soap and a toilet. I will check on you from time to time,” he informed, “so, if you need anything, ask and you might get.”

Now, he looked at Jude’s lips. He felt the strangest desire to kiss the girl, to take hold of her breast and suckle her nipples. ‘Was her breasts like her sisters?’ he wondered. ‘Perhaps I will find out if she misbehaves,” he told himself.

He placed the balaclava back over his head, untied the girl’s blindfolds and left the basement, slamming and locking the door behind him.

“Don’t worry, Jonathon will sort this out,” Joan told Jude. They hugged and tears ran down their cheeks. Moments later, the 40W lamp pinged and they were surrounded by total blackness.

***

Jonathon Bartlett called his wife’s mobile telephone, no answer. He began to worry. It was late, past midnight, and she was due home five hours ago. He called Joan’s friends, asking the same question, “Have you seen Joan this evening?” each answer a negative.

A slap came from the hallway. Thinking it was Joan trying to close the door without disturbing her husband, he stormed into the marbled hallway.

On the doormat lay a manila envelope, the name ‘Bartlett’ made up of letters cut from newspapers. His blood chilled as he opened the envelope. Inside, an A4 sheet of paper demanded £1,000,000 for the safe return of Mrs Bartlett and for no extra charge, Mrs Heskins would also be returned provided there was no trouble. Jonathon jumped as his telephone rang in the study. Rushing through, he picked up the receiver, “Hello?”

“Tomorrow, you will receive further instructions. Do not call the police, do not tell anyone, do not go into the office,” the phone-line hummed as the receiver at the far end hung up.

Jonathon’s evening was disturbed once more when the police called to say Joan’s car was found, unlocked, in a shopping mall. Jonathon made excuses that the officer accepted and hung up.

***

Joan and Jude sat up. The light pinged on and a key rattled in the door’s lock. They had no idea of how long they had been locked up. They didn’t even know if they had drifted in and out of sleep. In the total darkness, there was no difference between eyes open and eyes closed.

The light hurt, and they both squinted. A voice ordered, “Place these over your eyes and sit on the chairs.” Two blindfolds were tossed onto the mattress. Doing as they were told, the girls sat back to back and placed the blindfolds over their eyes. “Good. Now listen carefully. Every time you hear a key in the door, you must put the blindfolds on. Do you understand?” the girls nodded. “Good. Are you hungry?”

The girls realised then that they hadn’t eaten for some time. They felt hunger awaken, as the smell of toast wafted into the room. A second voice said, “Here’s some toast and cereal, I will be back in fifteen minutes to collect the tray,” said the second voice.

The door closed and the key turned. Hearing muffled voices in the corridor, they removed the blindfolds. They ate their breakfast in silence. Fifteen minutes later, the second voice arrived to take away the breakfast tray. It was then he managed to see Joan’s ample breasts press against her blouse. She was buttoned up and agreed with Jack, she was something else. ‘Her sister isn’t bad either,’ he thought to himself as he slammed and locked the door.

Two minutes later, the 40W lamp extinguished, placing the girls in blackness.

They didn’t know how long they had been there, but it must have been at least a day. They were just about all talked out and they were beginning to drift off to sleep again.

***

“One million, used notes, four bags,” the voice on the phone instructed Jonathon how the payment was to be made.

“How do I know the girls are alright?” Jonathon asked.

“You don’t, you just have to trust me. Just like I trust you don’t call the police,” the voice said.

Jonathon’s heart sunk as the line went dead. He didn’t know where to turn. Getting the money would take two days, but that wouldn’t be a problem, it was just that he had to wait another two agonising days before finding out if his beloved wife and sister were safe.

***

Joan fumbled in the dark trying to find the chemical toilet. She fell, bumping her head against the wall. At that moment, the key rattled in the door and the light came on. The man stood in his balaclava at the door. Jude, on the mattress, sat upright, her blindfold covering her eyes. Joan’s blindfold lay next to Jude. She suddenly realised she was not wearing her blindfold.

“Get up!” he balled at Joan.

Petrified, Joan stood, supporting herself with the wall. She sat next to her sister and placed the blindfold on her head.

“You will pay for this,” the man ranted. Taking hold of Joan’s blouse, he ripped it open, buttons flying through the air. Her breasts jiggled free as the material ripped at the seams. The man roughly tore the garment off Joan’s back. He pinched her nipples hard making Joan scream. Jude jumped, not knowing what was happening, she too screamed. The man slapped Jude telling her to shut up. He admired Joan’s firm breasts for a moment, then left the room. Seconds later the light was out.

“What happened?” Jude asked her sister.

“I didn’t have my blindfold on. That bastard ripped my blouse off me then pinched my nipples.” Joan sobbed, her head on her sister’s shoulder.

***

Time dragged on. They had no idea of what part of the day it might be; their watches had been taken away when they were first brought to the basement. By now they had been fed with three sets of toast and cereal. There was no sound from outside of the basement, if indeed this was a basement. The girls drifted in and out of sleep.

The light came on again as the key rattled in the lock. Joan made sure her blindfold was secure this time. She heard the two men enter the room.

“Hmm, she has got nice tits,” commented one. Joan could hear a muffled rattle, then two clicks. She recognised the clicks as a pair of briefcase latches opening. A hand took hold of her arm and lifted her from the mattress and forced her onto a chair. Then, her arms were pulled behind the back of the chair. She felt rope being tied around her wrists and ankles. She was bound to the chair.

“Do not be afraid,” the second voice told her as he touched her breasts, tweaking her nipples to erection. Joan felt coldness as the second man dabbed her nipples with what felt like a wet cotton bud. Some metallic rattling came from what she thought might be a briefcase, and then a sharp pain as her right nipple pinched hard. Joan let out a scream and jumped in her chair.

“What’s happening?” asked Jude.

The first man slapped Jude’s face and ordered her to be quiet. “Any more from you, and you will know first hand what’s happening.”

Joan felt a sharp pain as her nipple was pierced. She suddenly realised the second man had inserted a nipple ring. Moments later, there was a repeat operation, this time on her left nipple.

“Please don’t do this,” sobbed Joan.

“Shut up bitch,” horsed the second man.

“Please don’t do...”

Slap! Joan’s head snapped to the left as the force of his hand slapped hard on her cheek.

“I told you bitch, shut up.”

Joan fought back the tears. Her nipples began to burn as the pain of the piercing became more prominent.

“That should do it Tony. Shit!” Jack realised he’d told the girls his accomplice’s first name.

“You stupid fuck,” shouted Tony. “Don’t slip up like that again, or I’ll fucking… Oh fuck.”

The briefcase snapped closed and the two men left.

In the darkness, Joan sobbed as Jude untied her sister’s hands and feet. Rubbing her wrists first, Joan thanked her sister.

“What happened?” Jude asked.

“The bastards pierced my nipples,” Joan replied as she gently touched the rings. They were throbbing and stinging. “What do you think they’ll do if I take them out?” she asked her sister.

“No, don’t,” Jude snapped back. “They might do something you’ll regret. At least when we get out of here, you can take them out. The holes will heal up alright.”

Joan’s nipples were damp as fluid extruded from the piercings. After a while, they stopped weeping and a light crust formed. They were less painful now and Joan slowly drifted into another slumber.

***

The light came on again. How long had they been asleep? They didn’t know. Another tray of breakfast cereal and toast was placed on the floor. The man replaced the water with fresh and emptied the chemical toilet, cursing ‘the dirty bitches’ as he left the room.

The light stayed on. Expecting the key to rattle in the door, the girls were afraid to remove their blindfolds.

Time passed, “Perhaps he forgot to switch it off,” Jude whispered. Joan agreed and they removed their blindfolds. The toast was cold and the milk on the cereal was relatively warm. Jude hated warm milk, but she gulped the contents of the bowl without thinking too much about it now.

This was the first time they were able to study their prison cell. The woodchip wallpaper must have been decades old. Mould had formed and caused some of the paper to come away from the wall. There were no windows, not even boarded up frames. Stains on the floor showed where a workbench had been many moons ago; when a normal, healthy family might have inhabited the house. Against the wall next to the door, was a large wooden frame. The girls took a closer look. It was a foldaway table with leather straps and other contraptions they didn’t understand the use of. They looked at each other, eyes wide, and ran back to the mattress.

Joan’s blindfold fell from her hand as she dropped onto the mattress. At this point, the key rattled in the lock. Jude quickly pulled down her blindfold, Joan, reached for hers, but it wasn’t there.

“Shit!” she exclaimed, “I’ve lost my blindfold.”

“Oh no,” whispered Jude.

The door swung open. The two men entered, marching straight for Joan.

“So bitch, looks like you learn real quick,” the taller of the two belched. “Get the case,” he commanded.

Jack ran from the room as Tony lifted Joan from her mattress. He bound her hands behind her back, and then picking up her blindfold from the side of her mattress, he covered her eyes. Joan began to shake with fear.

“You will pay big time bitch,” growled the voice.

She felt his hands undo her skirt and tear the material from her waist. Her panties were next. Joan stood naked in front of her captor. Yes, she shook with fear, and she was petrified, but she also felt an excitement she hadn’t felt since her first sexual encounter on her sixteenth birthday, when John Stephens, the biggest boy in her class, forced himself on her. After the initial pain as she felt John’s hard cock inside her, bursting through her hymen, she began to enjoy his fucking her. She had a strange sensation erupt inside her as John’s cock ejaculated inside. She had lost her virginity, almost raped by the class bully, and she wanted more.

Now, Joan began to think about what they would do to her. Jack came running into the room, slightly out of breath.

Click, click. The case opened and the sound of small metallic instruments was heard. Expecting an immediate reaction, she suddenly heard the sound of scraping behind her. The two men were dragging the wooden contraption into the middle of the room. Moments later, Joan was forced, on her back, onto the wooden board. Leather straps were wrapped and fastened around her wrists and legs, then another pair of straps at her knees forced her legs apart.

Coldness again. Joan felt the dabbing of spirit on her belly button. She realised they were going to pierce her belly button. She felt the needle force its way through the skin, followed by the ring. This time, the pain was not as intense as that inflicted on her nipples… how long ago?

‘Why am I still strapped on this thing?’ she asked herself. The answer came almost immediately. She felt a hand on her vagina, tugging at her labia. Then, a finger was brutally inserted into her depths. She was dry and the penetration was painful. Joan whimpered.

“Leave her alone, you bastards,” Jude shouted at a wall. Tony slapped her face again as she recoiled onto her back on the mattress.

Jack took hold of her clitoris. ‘It was a large bud considering the bitch wasn’t even turned on yet,’ he thought. Taking a needle, he pierced the hood and followed through with a ring. He stood back to admire his handiwork. The nipples had not inflamed, her belly was a little red and her clitoris had a little blood leakage from the piercing. ‘That will soon stop,’ he thought. Taking a small aerosol can from his case, he sprayed a little antiseptic onto her piercings; Joan flinched at the unexpected coldness.

He turned to see Jude sobbing on the mattress. “What about her?” Jack asked Tony.

“What about her?” Tony replied.

“How about we give her something to remember us by?” he suggested to his accomplice.

Jack shook his head, “She’s a bad girl, but ain’t deserving that yet.” He turned back to his patient and placed a finger into her vagina once more. She was a little damp now, but not that he would notice.

Joan felt his fingers again. Not so painful this time. She wanted to scream but thought better not to.

The two men left the room, this time the light was switched off as soon as the door slammed closed. Jude crawled to her sister and helped her out of her bindings and off the table.

“What did he do to you?” Jude asked.

“I’ve got four piercings now,” she stammered. “They put one in my belly button and one on my clit-hood.”

“Did it hurt?”

“Yes but not as much as the nipples did though,” Joan told her sister. She began to giggle.

“What’s so bloody funny?” demanded Jude.

“If we weren’t having the occasional slapping, I’d say this could have been an elaborate set-up of Jonathon’s. We’ve fantasised about me having piercings, being kidnapped and raped; even him watching me fuck other men.”




Kidnapped



“Jeez,” Jude let out a long breath.

“But somehow, I don’t think this is his doing.”

Although she was now naked, Joan didn’t feel cold. The ambient temperature seemed constant, where it might be night or day. The unusually warm summer also helped.

***

Jonathon poured another scotch. His glass chattered against his teeth. It had been almost 36 hours since he last saw Joan. He feared the worse. He had thought about such a thing occurring many times, but put it out of his mind. ‘Who would want to kidnap my wife?’ he kept asking himself. Theories ranging from industrial espionage to simple greed for money came and went.

He sat, impatiently for the next call. He began to remember Joan’s face, her smile, her smell. He missed her dearly. When this was all over, he was going to take her around the world on a holiday she would never forget.

The phone ringing made him jump out of his chair.

“Hello?”

“Hi Jonathon, is Joan about?” asked Debbie. Debbie was a receptionist at the local health club. She had arranged to meet Joan, and Joan hadn’t turned up for two of her health club massage appointments. This was unusual, so Debbie thought she’d give Joan a call and check she wasn’t ill or something.

“Hello Debs,” Jonathon answered, sounding disappointed. “Joan’s not feeling well. She’s been in bed since coming home from the Hospice opening. Perhaps you should call back in a few days.”

He replaced the receiver. He realised he had begun to lie to friends; he hated lying. He felt the strong businessman in him surge forward. “I’m going to beat these bastards,” he told himself as he poured another scotch.

***

“He didn’t show,” Tony told Jack over the phone. “The bastard didn’t show up. He’s playing with us.”

“Take it easy Tony. He’ll show up. Perhaps he’s stuck in traffic or something,” Jack made excuses.

***

The keys rattled in the door as the light flashed on, burning their eyes. This was their seventh breakfast - their seventh meal. The girls were now able to place their blindfolds over their eyes a split second after the 40W light came on. But that initial shock still stung their eyes. Neither had any idea how long they had been captive, whether it was day or night. There was no contact with the outside world, not even fluctuations in temperature.

“Eat up ladies,” Tony ordered. “You’d better look out; Jack is not in a good mood today.” He left it at that as he closed the door behind him and switched off the light.

The girls ate their cold toast and cereal in darkness. They now began to understand the world of the blind. Their remaining senses were becoming more sensitive, only they didn’t realise it.

Sometime later, Jude wanted to use the toilet. She was aware that they hadn’t removed the tray yet, and they usually removed it within minutes of the girls finishing their breakfast. She became impatient and her bladder didn’t want to hold on to her urine. Jude stumbled to the corner and touched the edge of the seat. Dropping her slacks and panties, she sat and urinated. As she stood, the light flickered on and the door burst open.

“Hey bitch, what are you doing over there?” shouted the voice from behind a balaclava. Jude was half dressed and dithered pulling down her blindfold. He caught her looking at him as he entered.

“Get over here,” he shouted.

Joan was sat on her mattress; she feared for her kid sister. “Leave her be,” she demanded, as she realised Jude had been caught. Jack stormed over to Joan and slapped her, making her fall back onto the mattress, her blindfold flying through the air.

“So, you too eh?” He stood Joan up, tied her hands behind her back, and then took her to the table. Pushing her onto her back, he strapped Joan into the harness.

Jude, in the meantime, was sitting on her chair. Jack tied her up and ripped open her blouse, exposing Jude’s white silky bra. He studied her for a moment, and then returned to the table.

“Your husband never showed with the money,” he growled as he bound Joan’s blindfold. “It’s time to pay for his mistake.”

Joan was fearful for her life now. She could live with the piercings, after all, if she had been five or ten years younger, she would have probably had them done anyway. But now at thirty-five, she didn’t think it appropriate.

Jude whimpered, she knew that he would do something to her too after he finished with Joan. She heard footsteps. Tony entered the basement.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“The bitches didn’t wear their blindfolds again. They’ll never learn. And this one,” he pointed to Joan, “is going to pay for her husband’s mistake.”

Jack unzipped his trousers and pulled out a flaccid cock. Slowly walking over to Jude, he offered it to her face. Jude sensed his presence, then she smelled his cock. The musky odour, mixed with the odour of urine, told her exactly what was in front of her. She turned her head in defiance.

“Don’t worry bitch,” Jack told Jude, “this ain’t for you.”

At the foot of the table, stood between Joan’s outspread legs, he turned a small wooden handle. A centre section of the table retracted allowing him to get closer to Joan’s pussy. He pressed the tip of his cock against her opening.

Joan, anticipating something to happen, flinched as she felt something touch her vagina. There was some pressure and she quickly realised she was being filled with a cock. She tried to resist but this was met with verbal abuse and a threat of a slapping if she persisted.

“You are going to take all of my cock, and if you’re lucky, I might just let Tony have sloppy seconds.” Jack suddenly realised he too had made a mistake mentioning Tony’s name. He decided to make Joan pay for his incompetence. His cock pounded Joan’s pussy. Each thrust hit Joan’s cervix causing her to gasp.

Joan didn’t want to, but she couldn’t help it. Her body submitted to the abuse and she soon began to enjoy the feel of this stranger’s cock inside her. It felt large and fat, certainly a lot bigger than Jonathon’s. Then she realised why she was being punished. Jonathon had not paid the ransom!

Jack felt her pussy becoming moist. He knew she was enjoying his thrashing. He wanted to fuck this woman from the first time he saw the outline of her breast on the first day. That was three day’s ago.

His thrusts were now beginning to make Joan moan. Jude could hear the movement, a steady rhythm, and realised her sister was being raped; and there was nothing she could do to help.

***

Jonathon waited for the call. It had been twenty-four hours since he disobeyed Joan’s captor’s instruction to deliver the money, in four bags, in the boot of an old car left in an abandoned warehouse. He had contacted an old friend and called in some favours. Jonathon’s phone was set up for a trace and he was determined to get the bastards who took his wife.

He waited.

***

Joan’s orgasm was involuntary. Jack felt her tense around his cock and grinned at the victory. He came inside his victim, pulsing semen into her vagina, not caring if she had contraception.

And this was the very thing on Joan’s mind as she relaxed from her orgasm. ‘Shit, he’s just filled me up.’ She wanted to worry about unwanted pregnancies, but that was the least of her worries.

“Tony!”

Tony dropped his trousers and entered Joan. His cock squelched as he pumped in and out. Jack’s sperm oozed from Joan’s vagina, drenching Tony’s shaft and balls. Tony liked the slippery feeling. He pulled out and placed his cock at her ass hole.

‘No,’ Joan thought, ‘no, please no.’ she knew if she protested aloud she would be punished. She kept silent as she felt Tony’s cock pop into her hole.

Normally, she would have enjoyed a good ass-fuck, but not under these circumstances. Tony’s stroke increased in frequency. Finally he tensed as his cock shot streams of hot sperm deep into Joan’s ass. He quickly pulled out and pushed his cock into her vagina again, fucking her pussy for a dozen or more strokes before his cock began to lose its hardness.

Unknown to the girls, Jack had videoed the rape. ‘This will make him pay,’ he thought, ‘and it’s two million now.’

***

The next day, Jonathon’s doorbell will ring. He’ll answer the door and the UPS deliveryman will hand him a small parcel. Jonathon will quickly unwrap the parcel and place the tape into his VCR. Watching Joan’s rape, he’ll realise he’s becoming sexually aroused. It will appear to be remarkably close to a fantasy Joan has shared with him on several occasions.

***

“What about this one?” Tony asked, pointing at Jude.

“Get her on the table.”

Joan was unleashed and manhandled from the table. Her sister felt both arms being grasped firmly as she was lifted to her feet. She felt hot breath on her cleavage. Something cold, a knife, slipped between the material of her bra and her cleavage. A slight tug and her bra fell to the floor.

“Nice titties,” the voice said. “Not as big a sis’s, but just as nice.” She felt her nipples being pulled. They were extremely sensitive and if handled correctly, she could cum just by teasing them. Already, her pussy was damp. She didn’t like what was happening. Visions of her dead husband, her sister being raped, made her tremble. A hand squeezed her ass; another undid the clip and zipper. Her denims, after a little tug, fell to her ankles. The knife again: this time it cut away her panties. Now Jude was totally naked apart from her blindfold.

“This one like her titties being played with,” Jack told his friend. “Ah yes, her cunt is wet too.” He traced a finger along Jude’s slit, feeling her moisture. He pushed hard, forcing his way into her vagina. Jude stood silently, not moving an inch in defiance.

Moments later, she was strapped to the table.

“I think sensitive nipple deserve special attention,” Jack told Tony.

Click, click. Jude recognised the sound and knew what was coming next.

***

Jonathon did indeed watch the video. He wished now that he had paid up. 

“Getting another million will take another two days,” he told Jack. The line died.

“Not on long enough,” the technician told him. “We need at least ninety seconds to triangulate.”

***

Jude was hurting. Joan held her close, seeking comfort in their closeness.

“I don’t believe this is happening,” Joan told her sister. She began to get angry with herself for enjoying her rape. It was frighteningly identical to her fantasy with the exception that her sister had never been in the scene. And now, here she was, three, four, five, six days later? She worried that she didn’t know if it was night or day. It was, in fact five-twenty and day four of their captivity. She began to suspect their captors of placing something in their food, then she laughed to herself, ‘what can they put into dry toast and cornflakes?’

Jude could feel her nipples sting. She had expected the piercings, but not her belly button and clit-hood too. She reached down and touched her vagina. The ring felt good, but she didn’t want it; at least, not like this.

“What’s going to happen to us?” Jude asked her sister.

“We’ll be okay. You’ll see. Jonathon will come through.”

Time passed slowly, or maybe quickly in the blackness. Neither girl cared now whether it was night or day.

The two animals were still on Joan’s thoughts. Jude too thought about what was next for her.

“They will rape me soon, I know it,” Jude whispered to her sister. “Did they hurt you?” she asked.

“No, they didn’t hurt me. In fact, I began to enjoy it almost as soon as I felt his cock inside me. I don’t know why, but I’m beginning to enjoy the thrill, the excitement of all of this. As long as we do as they say, I don’t think they’ll hurt us.”

Jude sat quietly. Contemplating what it would feel like to be raped on that table. She had not felt a man since the death of her husband. Touching her piercing, she felt herself becoming wet.

***

Forever passed in the darkness. The girls were hungry for real food now. They were tired, but they weren’t tired, they were certainly confused, and that is exactly what Jack wanted them to be - dazed and confused.

“I have decided that there is no longer any need for you to wear you blindfolds,” Jack told them as he studied Tony’s handiwork. “But, you must do what I tell you, or you will be punished.”

The girls gingerly removed their blindfolds and squinted at the glare from the 40W light bulb.

“I must say ladies, after what you’ve been through, you are still looking remarkably beautiful,” Jack told them. He wasn’t bullshitting either. They were beautiful girls, even without the make-up, their complexion was clear, their eyes were large hazel spheres and their figure was something most women would die for.

“Do you think it would be too much if we were to ask for something other than cereal and toast?” Joan asked. She saw his eyes stare at her sister’s body. They darted to her as she asked him for food. Suddenly she felt she had spoken out of turn.

Through the two openings in his balaclava, Jack stared at Joan. “Why not?” he said after several moments. “We can’t have my sex slaves going hungry now, can we?”

‘Sex slaves?’ Joan thought.

‘Sex slaves?’ Jude trembled.

The girls talked after Jack left. The light was still on. This gave the girls another opportunity to observe their surroundings. Then, they realised they were looking at each other’s bodies. The piercings were turning both girls on and neither liked it.

Joan’s pussy had begun to smell after her rape, she had to wash the odour away. She lathered her hands and gently wash her pussy, making sure her fingers cleaned every fold of skin. She brushed against her clitoral piercing and felt a bolt of lightening shoot through her body. It wasn’t painful. She touched herself again and realised the ring had made her clitoris more sensitive.

“How do your piercings feel?” Joan asked her sister.

“A little tender I guess, why?”

“Well, it I press lightly on my clitoris, it sends a bolt of lightening through me. It’s wonderful.”

Jude touched herself. She felt nothing different, just a little excited about how her pussy looked with its gold ring. “No, I don’t feel it,” she said.

“Perhaps you’re not touching it right,” Joan told her. Joan sat next to Jude. “Here, like this.”

Jude flinched as she felt the sensation rocket through her body. “You’re right,” she stammered. Joan continued touching her sister’s clitoris. Before the girls knew it, they we masturbating each other. Soft moans escaped their lips as finger explored each other’s sex. Jude had never touched another woman before, and this was exciting. Jude, on the other hand, had had sex with her roommate at college, and several times since. Although she never saw herself as a lesbian, she liked the touch and taste of a pussy.

Joan placed her tongue on Jude’s vulva. Tasting her sister’s wetness, Joan lapped at her, tracing her tongue up and down Jude’s crack, probing from time to time. Jude felt an orgasm build inside her. Her moans became louder as her sister brought her to a shuddering climax.

Jude rolled Joan onto her back and straddled her sister. Jude’s tongue gave Joan’s pussy stimulation. Joan too, came to a shuddering orgasm as her sister stabbed at Joan’s clitoris. There was no doubt, the clitoris ring made her orgasm more intense.

The girls drifted asleep.

***

“Are you sitting comfortably?” the voice asked.

“Yes,” replied Jonathon.

“Good. The plan has changed. I no longer wish for cash.”

“What?” exclaimed Jonathon as he glanced at the cash filled bags waiting on his sofa. Then, he glanced at the two men who were going to sort out his problems.

“Yes, there is a change of plan…”

Jack gave Jonathon a twelve-digit number for a Swiss bank account. Jonathon was to wire the money immediately, or he would be receiving a small sack of his own, made from his wife’s left breast.

Jonathon typed in the number on his laptop computer. Clicking the execute button, the money was electronically transferred to a bank account in Geneva.

The phone rang again.

“Well, Mr Bartlett, I see you have followed my instructions,” the voice mocked.

“Yes, now what?”

“Now you wait. I will call tomorrow morning with details of where you can find Mrs Bartlett and her sister.”

The receiver hummed. “Bastards!” he shouted.

He dismissed his ‘minders’ when one shook his head, again unable to trace the call on his high-tech computer gadget.

***

Jude sucked on Tony’s cock, his semen oozing from her mouth. Joan was busying herself on Jude’s clitoris as Joan received a pounding from Jack. She screamed as she reached orgasm… then she woke up. It had been a dream.

“Are you alright?” asked Joan.

“Yes, yes. It’s just a dream.”

The light was still on. A key rattled in the door and the two men entered.

“Well ladies,” Jack announced, “it appears Mr Bartlett has come through with the goodies.”

Joan felt her heart race. They would soon be freed.

“Don’t get your hopes up yet,” Jack added when he saw smiles on the girl’s faces. “Before we let you go, we have something for you.”

Tony opened a large bag he carried on his shoulder. In it was small bottles of dark coloured liquids, a large battery and several other items the girls couldn’t recognise.

“Who’s first?” asked Tony.

“First?” questioned Jude.

“Ah, Miss Heskins, how nice of you to volunteer.”

Jude’s hear sank as she was taken to the table and tied down. Her legs forced apart just like her sister’s had been. ‘They are going to rape me,’ she thought.

Tony set out his equipment on a wheeled trolley he had brought into the room. He connected the battery cables to something that looked like a small electric screwdriver. Jude heard a hum as she realised the hand tool was a tattooist’s needle and the bottles must have been ink.

Jack stood next to the table, Joan at his side, her arm held firmly.

“Watch as your little sister experiences the pleasure of art,” he told Joan.

Tony dipped fitted a bottle of ink on top of the needle, and then touched Jude’s pubis. “I think we’d better get rid of this first,” he said to himself as he pulled on Jude’s pubic hair. He produced a razor from his bag and an aerosol of shaving foam. Then, after applying the foam to Jude’s pubic region, he slowly scraped away her pubic hair, leaving her pubis smooth and creamy white. He took a cupful of water from the makeshift sink in the corner of the room and rinsed away any remnants of pubic hairs and saving foam, then tapped Jude’s pussy dry with a towel. “Ah, that’s better.”

Jude had never shaved her pussy before. The sensation of the foam, razor and the occasional brush of her clitoral ring made her vagina dampen.

Click… hum… Tony began his handiwork. Jude felt the sting of the needle as it traced a thin black line over her pubis. Joan saw a letter ‘T’ form as the surplus ink mixed with a little blood. ‘The bastard’s branding her,’ she thought. By the time he’d finished, Jude had a capitol ‘T’ encased with a creeping ivy tattoo on her pubis. It was a very good piece of artwork if only Jude’s name begun with a ‘T’.

Jude was oblivious to what had been scribed onto her body. She felt the sting and the coldness of the damp clothe used to wipe away the surplus liquids. Another rinse and the tattoo was finished. Tony stood back and admired his work.

“Very good,” Jack told him as Tony nodded in agreement. Jude lay silently.

Jude wanted to know what she had been branded with, but at the same time, she didn’t want to know. She felt a bluntness press against her vagina, then penetration as Tony pushed into her. He had removed his trousers and began to fuck her pussy. Jack and Joan watched as Jude received Tony’s cock, in out, in out. Jude’s wetness lubricated Tony’s shaft making it glisten in the 40W light of the basement.

Joan felt Jack’s hand on her ass, squeezing her left cheek hard. She knew he was going to fuck her too. It was just a matter of time. When Tony was spent, she would be next.




Kidnapped



Jude felt his cock slide in and out of her wetness. She had closed her eyes now and tried to think of good things. She remembered David, the first night they had made love in the back of his old battered VW campervan. His cock pushed harder, his balls slapped against her ass. She could sense his ejaculation approach. Several more thrusts and Tony shot his semen into her womb. Jude managed to hold back an orgasm. Her thinking of David and the physical stimulation had almost made her cum.

Tony lifted his trousers and released Jude from the table. Joan was forced in her place. Tied firmly, she felt coldness as Tony began to shave her pubic hair. Jude was now part of her audience, sperm running down her thigh. Jack took hold of Jude’s arm and pushed her to the head of the table.

“Lick her clean bitch,” he ordered Joan. Jude felt her legs spread as Jack forced them apart and him push her forward, almost making her stumble on the table. Jude felt Joan’s tongue on her pussy. After her sister’s head earlier (or was it yesterday?), she found herself wanting more.

Joan swallowed the fluids running from her sister’s vagina. Joan liked the taste of semen and Tony’s was actually very pleasantly sweet. Jude’s pussy was cleaned and Jack pulled her away from her sister’s head.

Tony had finished shaving Joan’s pubis and switched on the needle. Joan felt the sting as he began his artwork. This time, an ivy entwined letter ‘J’ was scribed. Joan found herself comparing her tattoo with her sister’s. They were almost identical, apart from the tail of the ‘J’. After a rinse, Tony stood back and was replaced by Jack.

Jack pressed against Joan’s opening and his cock entered her immediately. He pounded her vagina, making her breasts ripple violently.

Joan felt his penetration hit her womb. This always made her cum with Jonathon, but now, she was being raped again and she didn’t want to cum. He natural instincts were too strong though, and soon she heard herself moan as Jack placed a thumb on her clitoris and gently rub the little button.

He pulled out and placed the head of his cock to the entrance of her ass hole. His cock glistened as his shaft disappeared into Joan’s ass. He fucked her hard again. Joan couldn’t help but groan. She was having the best orgasm she’d had in years. She felt his cock thrusts in her ass, his groin slap against the cheeks of her ass. He pulled out and replaced his cock into her vagina. Again, pounding hard but faster now. She sensed his cumming as he pulled out, his cream spewing out of the eye of his cock and onto her stomach, breasts and pubis. He replaced his cock in her pussy for several more strokes, and then pulled away.

Joan felt a tongue lick at her pussy. It was Jude, forced to clean her sister of Jack’s sperm. Jude liked what she tasted and found herself wanting more.

She was disgusted with her own thoughts. These two bastards had abducted, raped and abused them and she wanted more.

Joan too had similar thoughts. Jack had turned her on so much with his pounding and clitoris stimuli that she hadn’t the strength left in her to sit up after her bindings had been removed.

Tony replaced his tools in his bag and the men left.

***

Jonathon slammed down the phone and ran to the door. He raced to the address given him by the voice. The old abandoned farmhouse looked like it had been unused for years. He ran into the house calling for Joan. Nothing. In the kitchen were a TV and VCR. He could see Joan laying on a mattress, and Jude washing herself in the corner of what appeared to be a basement. Four videocassettes were on top of the TV. He placed one in the VCR and pressed play. Snow on the screen gave way to a red and black picture. The camera must have had night vision capabilities. He could see Jude and Joan hugging one another, then moments later, they were masturbating each other. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He took the cassettes and tossed them into the car.

“Joan; Jude,” he shouted, but there was no reply. He searched the farmhouse and none of the rooms resembled the picture he saw on the TV. Across the yard was an old hay barn. Jonathon ran and burst in through the large wooden doors, calling his wife’s name; again no reply. He began to feel desperation set in.

***
Jude helped her sister off the table. They hugged each other then confessed the feelings they had both had during the ordeal. They were equally ashamed, but at the same time, equally excited.

“We’re dirty, hungry, tired, tattooed, pierced and well fucked. What more could a girl want?” Joan asked her sister as they both laughed.

Neither heard him call. Their laughs flooded out Jonathon’s calls. They washed themselves down and took a look at their collection of jewellery and artwork. Both actually liked it. At least Joan could say the ‘J’ was for Jonathon, or Joan. Jude, however, would have to explain away a ‘T’.

“What was that?” Joan asked. Both pricked up their ears.

“Joan… Jude…” they recognised the muffled voice.

“Jonathon,” they screamed in unison as they jumped up and down for joy.

***

Jonathon found a hatch in the floor at the rear of the barn. Opening the hatch, a narrow stairs lead to a short corridor with a door at the end. He thought he heard something. Stopping to listen, he could hear women’s voices, “Jonathon… Jonathon…”

He ran at the door as kicked it open. The doorframe was rotting and the door came away from its hinges, slamming on the floor, raising a large dust cloud.

The girls rushed to Jonathon and hugged him, showering him with kisses.

***

Jonathon and the girls never found out who was responsible for their abduction. The girls spoke of their captivity and abuse many times over the dinner table, on the patio, in the lounge. They found it helped to talk about it and Jonathon was a good listener.

It had brought Jude back into the world. She was now bubblier, she had a lighter outlook on life and she had finally begun dating again.

Joan secretly yearned for the excitement again. Her love life had improved and she had put it down to her telling Jonathon about how she was raped. After all, it was a fantasy they had shared on many occasions.

Neither girl knew of the videocassettes Jonathon had recovered from the farmhouse. When he was alone, he’d lock himself in his den and play the tapes. Many times, he’d masturbate as he watched his wife get fucked by the kidnappers.

Jonathon smiled to himself. Perhaps I should make something like this happen again, only I’d make sure the video was in colour.



Kidnapped



Sarah was employed as a personal secretary to one of the directors of a London finance company. She really enjoyed her job and her boss was good to her. So good in fact that they frequently slept together. She was indeed a very "personal" secretary!

Sarah was waiting in the arrivals hall at Heathrow. Her boss had been called abroad on business and he had phoned to ask her to collect a couple of Arab business men. They were employed by a very wealthy oil Sheikh in one of the Gulf States and were very important customers. 

She took the two men back to Mike's apartment and made them coffee. They had said little to her but seemed pleasant enough. Nevertheless she could not help feeling apprehensive in their presence.

Then they suddenly asked her if she would like to go back to the Gulf with them to meet the Sheikh. Sarah was dumbfounded at this suggestion and explained that she had work to do here. 

That doesn't matter said one of them because this had been suggested to her boss and he had told them that she should take a break and go with them for a short holiday. 

Sarah thanked them for the offer but said that she had far too much to do. Then she excused herself and went upstairs to freshen up and change her dress. As she was pulling the dress over her head she heard the door open and the two men came in. 

They quickly overpowered her and threw her on to the bed. One of them sat astride her as the other held her arms. A sweet smelling pad was put to her face.

The next that Sarah knew was that she regained consciousness and gradually took stock of her situation. She realised that she was in an aircraft and was lying in a luxury bed. All she had on were her panties and then remembered that she had been overpowered by the two Arabs. 

A girl came into the cabin and sat down on the bed. "You have been chosen," said the girl! 

"Whatever do you mean," said Sarah and what on earth am I doing lying almost naked in this sumptuous bed in an airliner?"

The girl, who said her name was Fatima and who also said that she was Egyptian, explained that Sarah was being taken back to the house of a wealthy oil sheikh in the Arabian Gulf and this was his private jet. She explained that the Sheikh was very, very rich and had demanded that she was brought to him.

"You cannot be serious," gasped Sarah. "We are living in the 21st century and I am an independent English girl and I demand to be returned home immediately."

Fatima just smiled. "You really don't understand," she said patiently – "what the Sheikh says will happen, will happen. Oh, and it was me who undressed you and not those two men," she said with a broad smile.

Fatima also said that they had just flown in from New York before stopping at Heathrow. An American teenager had been returned to her home. She had been captured by the Sheikh's henchmen just as Sarah had been and she didn't want to go back home! 

"Why ever not," exclaimed Sarah?

"You will see, little white girl, you will see. He just loves white girls!"

She felt her ears popping and knew that they would soon be landing. She dressed just in time because the two Arabs put in an appearance. They asked her if she would be quiet when she left the plane and she told them in no uncertain terms that she would be screaming her head off! Without further ado they gripped her arms and once more she was unable to resist as that pad was placed over her mouth.

Again Sarah regained consciousness and this time found herself in a room on her own. It was a comfortable enough room and nicely furnished but when she went to open the door she found that it was firmly locked. The sound of her trying the door brought an older woman into the room. Sarah had by now remembered the predicament she was in and although she was frightened she was in no mood to mince words with this woman. 

However, the woman told her that she was a very lucky young girl and had been selected for the Sheikh's harem.

"The Sheikh's what," exclaimed a horrified Sarah? "Surely harems don't exist in this day and age?"

"Oh, but they do here," said the woman, "and you must learn to be obedient."

Sarah looked at a picture on the wall. It was of an old man and she was told that this was the Sheikh. "Oh, that was taken some time ago," explained the woman. "He is much older now," Sarah shuddered and wondered just what her fate was to be.

"You will come now and meet the other girls," said the woman. So it was right! There is a harem and I am to be a harem girl thought Sarah. There were about 12 girls of different nationalities sitting around a very smart indoor swimming pool. All of them seemed to be in their late teens. They surrounded the Sheikh's latest victim and all began to talk at once.

"How lucky you are," they said.

"I am certainly not lucky," said Sarah and they all laughed at that. She was amazed to see that without exception they were all dressed in the traditional diaphanous baggy pantaloons and see-through blouses that Sarah had seen pictures of. 

The older woman, who the other girls addressed as Mistress, left Sarah to mix with the other girls and be told what was expected of her. 

"Nothing will happen at first," one of them said. "You will have tests to prove that you are pure and have no diseases," said another. "And you will be put on the pill immediately." They all laughed at this.

There appeared to be no immediate escape and Sarah resigned herself to be bathed by the girls and they dressed her in the traditional harem clothes. She wore exquisite perfume. 

Sarah at 22 was probably a couple of years older than the average age of the harem girls. She was no virgin and in fact was virtually the mistress of her boss back in London. Apart from that she was relatively inexperienced.

"Only the finest French perfume," said one of them. Wonderful pearl necklaces and gold bracelets were shown to her and she thought to herself, "why not," and chose some of the beautiful jewellery. As they pampered her and whispered to themselves Sarah was saying to herself, "I really believe I could live with this." Then she remembered all that she had left behind and once again felt extremely annoyed and not a little worried.

A beautiful young girl, who turned out to be Indian, entered the room. She had lovely long black hair and her dark eyes flashed as she told the others what had just happened to her.

"But the Sheikh is so old," said Sarah, who was horrified that this beautiful young Indian girl should have been subjected to his advances.

"We haven't told her," said the girls. 

"Told me what," said Sarah? 

"OK", they said, "its like this." "The Sheikh has six sons and they are all very handsome." "And very sexy," said one of them, amid more laughter. "The Sheikh is harmless enough now but he has had hundreds of girls in his time and he wants his sons to have the same experiences."

"That's why he retains this traditional harem and you are so lucky to be chosen." 

Sarah protested again at this but she could feel herself becoming aroused at the thought of what was going to happen to her! Six young princes! During the next five days Sarah had no option but to laze around the pool and have the others dress her and she dressed them. She was told that she should have no pubic hair and had to subject herself to a couple of the girls as they shaved her pussy. It was a very erotic atmosphere. 

She had caught sight of nearly all the sons when they entered the harem to chose a girl but, apart from eying her up an down, had said nothing at all to her. All the girls who were summoned by the Princes seemed excited and eager to go with them.

Still she had not been called and she wondered why. The Harem Mistress explained that one of the sons was out of the Country and they would all wait until he came back. 

Sarah didn't follow the reason for this until it was explained to her that when a girl is first "invited" to the Prince's quarters all the Princes must be there to sample their new harem girl! 

Again she was horrified to think that she was going to be gang-banged by six men!

Then her time came. Two of the Princes entered the room at the same time and beckoned her to her. She tossed her head in the air and refused to go to them like an obedient little dog. Sarah then saw them talking to the Harem Mistress and then they left.

"They know that most Western girls are indignant at first," said the Mistress, "but they have ways and means."

"They are going to rape me," said Sarah.

"Certainly not," said the woman, "but you must obey their wishes and go to the bedchamber."

Sarah knew that it was dangerous to defy these all-powerful Royal Princes. The girls had told her that years ago when a girl had been defiant, the Sheikh would have first given her to the officers for them to pleasure themselves with and then sent her to one of the army barracks where she would become a "comfort girl". In other words she would become a prostitute and have to have sex with any or all of the soldiers in return for food and shelter.

"I have been instructed to dress you in western dress," said the Harem Mistress. "The Prince's enjoy undressing western girls," she said with a laugh!

Sarah was stripped naked by eager hands and was soon dressed in very expensive Italian underwear and a lovely Saatchi dress. They dabbed some of the most expensive and sexy perfume behind her ears and she was made to wear a gold ankle bracelet. They explained that the ankle bracelet was a sort of badge of office! It said, "I am a harem girl."

The last words spoken by the Harem Mistress was to be sure and call each of them "Your Highness". She had no option but to be shown to a room next to the bedchamber where two of the princes introduced themselves. 

"We know that you are a proud western girl," said one of them, "and therefore we will not insist that you call us by our royal title. "However, you must show respect or the consequences will be severe for you." 

"I should tell you, she said, that I am not afraid of you and you must not harm me." 

They smiled at this. "We were all educated in England," said one of them, "and therefore we understand western customs and make allowances for you. But please remember that you are now in our country and must obey our conventions."

"But you have kidnapped me," protested Sarah.

"We will not do anything to you that you do not approve of," they said. 

She was invited to sit down. "Would you like a drink?" Thinking that her best approach might be to humour them, Sarah said, "Scotch on the rocks if you please." They talked with her and were pleasant enough. Time went by and Sarah had just one more Scotch on the rocks. 

What was their game, she thought? I do believe they are going to leave me alone. One of the Prince's handed her the drink and lightly ran his hands down her body after he had done so. Strangely Sarah enjoyed this and they could see that she was becoming more amenable. 

Her dress was low cut and despite herself, she began to flaunt her body. She leaned forward and they were offered a view of the contours of her breasts in the lacy bra.

"Do you like the dress you have on," said one of them?

"Its very beautiful," she said.

"And a very exclusive Saatchi dress," said the other with a smile. She was invited to come and sit between them on the couch they were sitting on.

"That's better said one of them. "You need not be afraid of us," and lightly squeezed her thigh. "Your breasts are just straining against that dress and you look divine," said one of them. 

Strangely Sarah just thanked him for the compliment instead of being embarrassed that he should talk about her breasts so openly. 

Sarah was beginning to feel very aroused indeed and the fact that she was entirely at the mercy of these handsome men was simply adding to her state of arousal. She noticed her anklet bracelet and started to realise that she was indeed their young white "slave girl".

"Stand up and give us a whirl," said one of them in a commanding voice. 

Sarah had become intoxicated by the erotic situation she found herself in and obediently obeyed her master. She rose and the dress swirled around her nice legs as she pirouetted and teasingly gave them a view of a pair of nylon-clad thighs. Sarah was now enjoying herself and spun around again so that this time her dress swirled above her waist and she treated them to a full view of her voluptuous bottom clad in silken panties.

Then she became giddy and one of them caught her before she fell. She now lay across both their laps and she was kissed by one of them. Despite herself, Sarah had returned his kiss by opening her mouth in a very sexual way and surrendered to the sensuality of it.

She felt the hand of the other Prince slide up her thigh and soon it was under her panties and skilfully playing with her. With a desperate attempt to defy them she struggled up to a sitting position and pulled his hand away. 

It had dawned on her by now that she had been out-manoeuvred. She realised that the drinks that she had naively accepted contained a powerful sexual stimulant. She remained entirely in control of her senses and was not confused in any way but the drug was making her hopelessly aroused.

Both the girls and the Princes had insisted that, "nothing would happen to her that she did not approve of" and now she knew why they had said that. She knew that she was eagerly anticipating what was about to happen instead dreading it.

Sarah's hair was in a ponytail and one of the men released the band. She stood up and shook her long blonde hair until it fell about her shoulders. Sarah had surrendered to the highly erotically charged atmosphere and this was her surrender flag.

Then they took her by the hand quite gently to another room which contained the most enormous bed. The two handsome Princes found absolutely no resistance as they undressed her. She held on to one of them with her eyes closed and shivered with sexual excitement as her dress was slipped of and her bra unfastened. Her panties were pulled down around her ankles for her to step out of. She was laid on the bed and they both stripped. 

They were swarthy and powerfully built men. Sarah needed no encouragement as she held the penis of one of them and began to masturbate him. She gasped as his erection grew until she was unable to put her hand completely around it. 

Constant practise had made the princes skilled in the art of lovemaking and Sarah knew that she was about to be taken by professionals. By now the drug and the situation she found herself in had made her aroused as never before.

One of them knelt in an upright position between her legs. Then he held her ankles to pull her legs wide apart and lift them in an enormous V. He skilfully slid her to him and impaled her on to his rock hard erection. She was now wild with sexual excitement as he proceeded to fuck her fast and furious. She climaxed almost immediately and he released her into the tender care of his equally hunky brother.

Once more Sarah was mercilessly fucked and once more she achieved a massive orgasm. The four other princes had all now arrived and she was passed from one to the other. They were experts in the various methods and positions of the Khama Sutra and Sarah lost count of the number of times that she climaxed. 

Each time she was made to cum she would be passed to another brother who would take her in another position and touch her in ways that she had never before experienced. The drug that she had been given seemed to be gaining in its effect all the time and she had long forgotten that she had intended to defend her virtue! The Princes mercilessly gave her thrill after thrill and Sarah was having the time of her life. 

That night when she had eventually exhausted all of them she lay between the two Princes who had first summoned her. 

In the morning they chatted to her as if nothing had happened and told her what life for a harem girl would have been like in their Grandfather's time. She was told that a new girl would be instructed by the other girls to be totally submissive. She would slide under the covers from the foot of the bed and starting with the feet she would kiss her master all the way up his body. She would suck him off until he ordered her to stop.

It was essential that she make her master aroused as quickly as possible because only in that way could she remain in his harem. Failure to please meant that the girl would be given to the guards for them to play with as they pleased before being sent back to her family.

All these erotic tales of the past had made Sarah aroused once more and they took turns to fuck her again before letting her go. Any effect that the strange potion had wore off long ago but now she was just eager to have wild sex with them. They were so good at it. 

A robe was brought up by the Harem Mistress and she donned that before returning to the harem and being confronted by the other girls. 

"What was it like," "What was it like?" they asked, knowing full well that they had all had the same experience. "We told you that you are a lucky girl," they laughed. This time Sarah had to agree!

She told them that she felt ashamed that she had so willingly submitted herself to the Princes but the girls explained that the drug was known only by the Royal Family and it was impossible to fight the effects of it. 

The beautiful young Indian girl was a popular choice with the Princes and the next day she was summoned again.

"Come with us Sarah," said two of the girls and Sarah went with them to a room adjoining the royal bedroom where the young Indian girl was. Gloria peered through a special secret viewing port which had probably been installed many years ago. 

"They haven't given her that drug said Sarah." "You don't have to have it," they reminded Sarah, laughing. "But I know Ayesha always asks for it," said one of them and they probably sent it to her earlier this morning. 

She was about to be "entertained" by three of the Princes. Certainly the little Indian girl was clearly highly sexed because as they undressed her she whispered something to one of the Princes. He put one hand on her bottom and the other hand felt her pussy and skilfully massaged her. She held him tightly as her body convulsed in the throws of a violent orgasm. 

Sarah couldn't help playing with herself as she witnessed the unfolding gang-bang. Oh when would it be her turn again?

When Ayesha returned to the harem they told her that they had seen all that was done to her. She was not the slightest embarrassed. 

"Perhaps they will call for me again this afternoon," she said hopefully?

The Harem Mistress summoned Sarah the next morning early and said that she was to accompany two of the Princes to their hunting lodge for the weekend. She chose from the extensive wardrobe that was available to her and hoped that the Princes who had invited her would approve of her choice.

When the Range Rover called for her she sat between the two who had summoned her the other evening. This time the atmosphere was relaxed from the start and they all laughed and joked. Sarah had put all reservations behind her and was out to enjoy herself. She was, after all a highly sexed girl and the whole atmosphere was charged with eroticism.

The Prince who was driving told her that they had been in touch with her Company headquarters in London and spoken to her boss. He sent a message saying that he was glad that Sarah had "accepted their invitation" to go with them and knew they would give her a good time! He was not expected to arrive back in London for another fortnight and so she might as well stay on if she wished to. 

"Accepted their invitation" indeed. She had been kidnapped!

So, she was being told that she could go home when she chose but could stay another fourteen days if she wished. Sarah was reassured by this and thought to herself, "what the hell – I might as well make the most of it." The Prince who was a passenger kissed her full on the lips and slid his hand under her skirt. She dutifully opened her legs.




Kidnapped



The weekend was predictably one big orgy with Sarah the willing and eager centre of attraction. She told them that she knew about the drug and they said that my desire was all my own because they hadn't used it on me that weekend! 

Another brother was known to be at the Palace but had not been seen by any of the girls. Early one morning she was summoned to his private apartment. This was a little unusual because the Princes had duties or office work to engage them until mid afternoon. 

Sarah quickly showered and slipped a beautiful dress on. She knocked on the door and heard him tell her to enter. The Prince, whose name was Khalid, introduced himself. He had been educated in England and finishing school in Switzerland and was perhaps more "westernised" than his brothers. 

Sarah like him immediately. All his brothers had an air of authority. They knew they were Princes and acted autocratically. She genuinely felt like their "slave girl" and was quite submissive in their presence. She had to admit to herself that she was totally inflamed by this feeling of being at their mercy.

However, this brother, who, Sarah discovered, was four years younger than herself, had a much less dominating air about him. He was still a schoolboy at heart. Years at school in England and the confidence that the Swiss finishing school had given him had made Khalid perfectly at ease with this pretty English girl. They were soon chatting together in a most relaxed manner.

He explained that, just like his brothers, he was required to attend to duties affecting the administration of the Kingdom and please would Sarah act as his secretary while she was here? Soon they were hard at work and Sarah, who was very computer literate, was soon a valuable assistant. 

She had not been "invited" to any of the Prince's apartments for a couple of days and even began to feel jealous of one or two of other girls who had been chosen. Sarah soon compensated for this by setting about trying to seduce Khalid. 

On the second morning she selected a diaphanous silk dress from the enormous wardrobe at her disposal. Her blonde hair was allowed to flow free and cascaded over her shoulders. Khalid was treated to the scent of an expensive perfume when she reported for work. He was seated at a table on the balcony having breakfast. 

She walked over to the balcony wall and innocently looked out at the desert beyond. Khalid was subjected to a view of Sarah in her underwear as the strong morning light shone right through the dress. "That's just for starters darling", she whispered to herself.

They began work and Sarah sat at the computer. He stood behind her to see the screen as she followed his instructions. Her dress would gape open and the valley between her breasts met his gaze. His hand was on the filing cabinet and her soft breast pressed against it as she leaned forward to pick up a document. Her dress was innocently made to catch on the edge of the desk and he had a momentary view of white thigh and sheer panties. Not once did the poor boy suspect anything.

What could an eighteen year old boy do? How much more of this could he stand? Sarah could see that he was becoming more and more aroused and that he was not quite sure what to do next. Eventually he became bold and she felt him come up behind her as she sat at the computer. His hands were on her breasts and he kissed the nape of her neck.

Then he hesitated. "This won't do," said Khalid manfully. "We must get through some more work." But his resolve had been broken and a short while later as Sarah bent over him to grasp a letter he buried his head into her breasts and she held it against them. 

Sarah could sense that Khalid was a virgin and that she was the one in charge. She cupped his head in her hands and gave him a long, lingering wet kiss.

"It's just sex Khalid darling," she told him. "Neither of us can help ourselves." "Please help me Sarah," he said. They held hands as they went through to an adjoining bedroom and Khalid sat on the bed, obviously a little shy. Sarah went up to him and once more Khalid's face was up against her soft breasts as she stood between his open legs. 

She took his hands and put them around her waist. Soon they were sliding down her thighs and slipped beneath her dress. She cupped his face in her hands and placed hot little kisses on him as she felt his hands slide up her naked thighs and under her panties to fondle her soft bottom.

"Please will you take off your dress for me Sarah," said Khalid nervously? 

"You can do that for me," said Sarah and he shook as he took the hem of the dress and pulled it over her head. He gasped as she stood there naked except for a pair of sexy panties. 

Unlike his brothers he was so innocent as he knelt down to pull Sarah to him. He kissed her pussy through her panties and Sarah was so turned on by his obvious vulnerability. 

She undid his belt and pulled his trousers down. His boxer shorts came off at the same time and he flinched as she held his throbbing cock. He pulled his shirt over his head and was now naked in her presence. All the time she was playing with his cock and it was soon completely rigid. 

They both lay on the bed and he was ordered to "slip my panties off darling." Dutifully he obeyed her and knelt between her open legs. 

She guided his erection into her hot wet vagina and he began, for the first time in his life, to fuck a pretty girl. Sarah's vagina began to twitch as she started to orgasm and this soon she could feel him pumping into her. She put her arms around him as he lay exhausted on top of her. 

"Was that nice darling," she said? 

"Ooohh yes," said Khalid and kissed her lovingly.

Both of them were naked as they held hands and made for the shower. They stood together under the cascading water and soaped each other, making quite sure that each washed the most intimate parts of the other partner! Sarah's hot soapy hand masturbated Khalid and he held on to her with his eyes closed while she played with him. 

Then she dropped to her knees and took his knob into her mouth. He gasped as she vigorously fucked and sucked him with her lips until she made him cum again. "Ugh," she said, "It's ever so salty!" Then she stood up again and said, "treat for a good boy." He squeezed her affectionately.

After they dressed and went into the office they found that lunch had been diplomatically put down just inside the door. Khalid was required to go with one of his brothers in the afternoon so Sarah reluctantly returned to the harem. 

The next day she was summoned to the office of the eldest brother and told that she should pack her things in time to board the family airliner that evening and return to Heathrow.

She learned afterwards that a serious breach of etiquette had occurred. Traditionally a son of the Sheiks should first experience sexual intercourse with another virgin. A young virgin had been selected for him and the "ceremony" was due to take place later that week.

However, Khalid had boasted to his brother that Sarah and he had been fucking Sarah and all their plans had been frustrated. 

It seemed that this was the reason for the sudden end of her sex adventures in The Gulf. She hoped that she hadn't got Khalid into trouble and even thought of telling the elder brother that she had seduced him, but thought better of it. She was still a little frightened of them all.

Two Princes were flying to London in the same aircraft and in the early evening they headed for the airport in a large Mercedes. Fatima, the Egyptian girl was waiting at the top of the airliner steps to welcome the princes aboard. 

Sarah had noticed that the royal princes always treated staff as if they weren't there and she was therefore a little surprised when they both gravely kissed Fatima on both cheeks as they boarded. Sarah, complete with her hand luggage, made up the rear. As she struggled with her case she reflected on the way these Arabs often treated women! 

An evening meal was brought to them by Fatima and Sarah was offered a glass of wine. The Princes were quite pleasant to her and she was relieved about that. They sat each side of her after the meal and it suddenly dawned on Sarah that the wine had been doctored as she found herself flirting outrageously with both of the men.

One led the way and one made up the rear as Sarah was sandwiched between them on the way to the cabin with the sumptuous bed. Once more she was stripped and once more they practised all the tricks and wiles of the Khama Sutra on a frantically excited Sarah.

Then eventually, when their lust was satisfied, they left her on the bed and Fatima put in an appearance. Brazenly she put her hand on Sarah's pussy and bent down to kiss her full on the mouth. "Just a little sore is it?" she said with a sly smile. 

Sarah was still under the influence of that wonderful drug and pulled Fatima down on to the bed. She rolled her over and sat astride her as she playfully pinned Fatima's arms above her head.

"I told you," said Fatima. 

"Yes and you were so right," said Sarah, who knew just what she meant. "I was a lucky girl to have been "chosen" and no, I don't want to go home!"

"I should be cross with you," said Fatima. "Usually the Princes want to have fun with me when we are flying!" 

"I noticed that they both kissed you when they came aboard," said Sarah.

"Oh, I was a favourite in the harem longer than many girls and although they discarded me a long time ago we still have a special relationship," she said. 

Her boss, Mike was waiting to collect her at Heathrow and they drove straight to his apartment. Sarah knew from experience that sex would be uppermost on Mike's mind after so long apart and she put an affectionate hand on his thigh as they approached his home. 

She was immediately bundled upstairs and it wasn't until he undressed her that he noticed it. Why is the royal coat of arms embroidered on your panties he asked her...?? 



Kidnapped & Changed Forever



I met this lovely woman in a bar; she was tall, blonde and well developed. She came over and chatted me up, now I am not tall and well developed so I wasn't sure why she did but I liked it.

"Hi I am Dominique, you can call me Dom," she cooed, "and you are?"

"Jamie."

"Ah Jamie, nice to meet you darling very feminine name isn't it?"

"Well it goes for both genders but yeah I guess so." This bugged me a bit as I never had a doubt I was masculine, I am 5'7" about 150 lbs, muscular but not overly so and never been confused for female.

"Well sweety I think your adorable and I bet you have a nice hard cock all ready for me don't you?" She nearly pressed her face to mine as she spoke and groped my crotch. "MM you do, what say we go outside to my car and you let me take care of that for you?"

She never even waited for the answer she grabbed my hand and led me out to her panel van. She opened the rear doors, we got in and she removed all my clothes and began sucking my now dripping 8 inch cock.

Suddenly she produced handcuffs and quickly did my hands behind my back, and as I struggled she shackled my legs. I felt a sharp prick in my ass cheek and the last thing I remember is her smiling holding a syringe.

I awoke in a dark, dank room; the only light from a small slit in the door. I tried the door but it was locked so I peered through the slit and saw Dominique in a lab outfit and her assistant, a tall dark haired beauty.

"HEY!" I yelled, "What the hell do you think you're doing? Let me the fuck out of here!"

"Ah, you are awake, good! Let me tell you something my dear boy. I told you my name was Dom, it used to be Dominic not Dominique, and I am a scientist. A while back I tried one of my experiments on myself and this is the result. This is my wife Angela and over the next few weeks we are going to reconstruct the experiment slowly, with you! Now I know your thirsty, the drugs do that to you so drink this."

She slid a drink through a slot to me. At first I had nothing to do with it but my thirst got the better of me and I drank it. A few minutes passed and I felt pretty woozy so I sat on the armchair in the room and lay back. As I did there were voices coming from speakers in the walls telling me to relax and listen. It seemed I had no choice but to do it and I quickly drifted off. I woke to a raging hard on and went to work on it. When I came I timidly scooped some cum off my belly and tasted it, hmm not bad, then I scraped the rest off and licked myself clean.

A few hours passed and the whole time I could just here Dom and Angela talking in low tones. Every time I sat in the chair the voice started up and every time I jerked off and ate my cum, each time with more gusto than before. Several days passed (I think at least) and Dom opened the door and let me out.

"Kneel bitch!" I did as I was told, without question and totally out of character. "Suck this." And Dom pulled out her only remaining manhood, a gorgeous 9 inch phallus. She was fully engorged, dark purple mushroom head all shiny, thick veins running the length of the shaft, tight heavy balls, shaved totally smooth. It stuck out from her garter encased hips and her hose legs rubbed against me. I stared at the cock before me like a hungry dog. I had never, ever, thought of sucking cock but now I needed it. The pit of my stomach yearned to feel its load in it.

I opened my mouth and let her slide it in to me. Oh god it was divine, pre cum oozing from the slit. My tongue knew what to do and I worked at the pee slit to urge the cum out. I pressed forward until the head was at the back of my throat and back to my lips. Over and over letting my tongue be used as the resting place for this magnificent organ. After several minutes she came, too much for me to swallow all at once but the burning in my stomach was satisfied.

"See Angela, phase one is a suck cess." Dominique laughed an evil laugh. All I wanted was more cum. "Do you see Jamie how I am changing you? I know you never sucked cock before but you're a pro, and now every day after your chair sessions and a new drug regimen you will find cocks being fed through that hole across from your chair. You will suck any cock that shows itself and until it cums down your filthy mouth. Now lay down."

Doing as I was told I lay on a dentist's chair and was strapped into place. Angela drew a syringe and injected me under my nipples. Drawing another she poked my balls and then they lowered a laser device over me. Angela began lasering my hair off, first my legs, then up my body and armpits, face and pubes.

Another week passed and I was blindfolded the last few days. But every day I sucked a new cock, sometimes several, and each time I felt the yearning in my stomach quiet but I was getting a new itch, in my ass. Each day I felt more feminine not sure if it was the drugs or the voices but it was real.

The door opened and I fell to my knees as Angela and Dominique came in. The lifted me and took me to the lab and removed my blindfold. There between them stood a hot brunette girl, full breasts, shapely legs and.. oh my god a raging huge cock. I was in shock as I was looking in a mirror, it was me. I was the brunette.

"Phase 2 darling, now aren't you pretty, bend over." I was bent over the chair and restrained spread open. Angela lubed my virgin ass using 1 then 2 then 3 fingers and they felt wonderful. I was moaning and knew what was coming but wanted it.



Kidnapped and Defiled



Deep Blue

With apologies, and homage, to John D. MacDonald

The handcuffs were looped over a pipe that traversed the ceiling of the boat's main cabin. It was a sizable space, the ceiling high enough to oblige Lois Atkinson - recent divorcee, migrant from the East Coast, modest trust fund recipient - to stand slightly on tiptoe to ease the pull of the metal bands on her narrow, fine boned wrists. Her long, tapering back, slender limbs, flawless pale skin, and round buttocks that were in some contrast to her general slight build made a pretty picture; especially since she was completely naked. The cabin was warm; the small cove where Junior Allen had anchored the cruiser was anchored in a remote cove not far from Bimini, and the sea breeze compensated only slightly for the tropical humidity. The temperature, however, was the least of Lois' concerns; instead, twisting against the handcuffs' confines, she looked apprehensively over her shoulder, at the stocky figure behind her, equally naked but unfettered.

Her long dark hair accented her white skin; her unusually large dark eyes were opened wide with a fearful anticipation. Her mouth was uncomfortably dry; Fancha had rolled her panties into a ball and stuffed them into her mouth, sealing it with a wide strip of duct tape. The white skin of her perfect buttocks was marred only by the reddened outline of a large hand print; a sheen of sweat moistened the graceful hollow of her back. As the other approached, Lois began to shake her head violently and attempt to speak through the gag; but only a series of muffled sounds emerged. Fancha - a stocky, brown skinned Haitian harlot, possessed of a surface attractiveness, with swollen lips and a provocative pair of breasts - approached the helpless Lois and looked her up and down. As she did so, she gently switched the lithe cane she held through the air.

"Don't you look pretty there, lil baby. You's a sweet little ass, that's for sure. But you haven been actin friendly; not friendly at all. You need to love Fancha; give me some of that sweet white pussy. Junior says you still acting all high an mighty; he says I has to 'struct you in how you ought behave. An' you know we has to do what Junior says. 

I'm lookin forward to teachin you how to act; when I'm done with you you going to give me anything I want, and be glad to. You bin a rich, hoity toity lady; but not no more. You our little bitch now; Junior say so. It's going to be fun teachin you; an I got the feeling I won't be done till long after you wish I was. You be beggin me to let you love me. No more" - and here she mimicked Mrs. Atkinson's East Coast tone - "I will not do that. You be doin everything, for sure."

Lois instinctively flinched from the menacing figure; but her bonds limited her movements to a couple of steps. Sensing the piercing gaze of the other woman on her unprotected behind, she attempted to turn away. Fancha giggled at her helpless attempts at evasion; swung her powerful arm back, and the cane cracked across the precise center of Lois Atkinson's soft , naked, beautifully rounded buttocks, driving a strangled scream from the unfortunate victim and causing a pink weal to spring up immediately across the tender flesh, while the young woman danced in a frenzy from toe to toe in a hopeless effort to calm the sharp agony that seared her ass.

As her victim slowed her writhing, Fancha stepped forward and grasped her buttock cheek. Pressing her coarse haired bush against the girl's yielding flesh, and wetting her powerful fingers in her mouth, she explored Lois' soft pink anal entrance. She slid first one finger, then another, into her rectum, explaining with pleasure at the close velvety smoothness that her rough touch encountered. Lois squealed in pain and indignation through her gag; but her desperate squirming could not dislodge the invading digits. Fancha began a slow, deliberate caressing of the bound girl's most secret place; as Lois struggled a soft squelching noise was heard. Humiliated, Lois ceased her attempts to free herself of the intrusion; Fancha leaned forward and nipped her victim's pale shoulder with her strong, stained teeth, then thrust a wet tongue into Lois' soft, shell-like ear. Dropping her cane, she grasped and fondled the girl's breast; in spite of herself Lois' nipple grew hard under the rough caress. 

"Does that feel good...peut-etre a lil bit? Junior said he broke you in good back here; maybe you a little sore. I 'member the first time they did it to me, in the House in Port-au-Prince...didn't like it one bit th' first time, but now it's my favorite...except for havin a pretty young white girl use her mouth on me. You going to learn to do that the ways I like. You going to put your tongue up my ass, too, you. But maybe I decide to just whup you till you no use for anything, and Junior leave you back in the swamp for the gators. That's fun too." 

Grinning with pleasure, Fancha brushed her fingers down the soft, cringing stomach in front of her, then slipped them into Lois' soft pussy, where a steady, skilled stroking commenced, coordinated with the in and out motion in the girl's anus. Lois began to moan and squirm, and Fancha felt a sudden wetness in front. Laughing mockingly, she stroked the girl's clitoris, which began to stand up For a few moments more she probed her victim both front and back; then stepped back, released her grip, picked up her cane, and swung her muscled arm back.

"No, not yet, missy. You going to come, all right, but not yet. First, we got your lesson."

The cane struck Lois hard, at the exact point where her buttocks met her thighs. Lois screamed through her gag, and a new stripe joined the original bar across the soft pale flesh.

Mrs. Lois Atkinson had fled Connecticut to the tile-and-glass new house in Candle Key after her very short-lived marriage fizzled. Sensitive and lonely, she had hoped for a new start. Her now ex-husband had seemed a good match: handsome, well educated, from the same social background of upscale East Coast suburbs and private schooling. They had dated for only a few months before he proposed; Lois accepted, though she reflected ruefully that it was the idea of marriage that swayed her more than her fiancé.  

After a lacklustre honeymoon, where neither party seemed able to overcome their shyness, it was a very short time before Lois - in a moment of startling revelation - was idly observing her partner at a Christmas cocktail party when she witnessed him delivering an unmistakable caress to another male guest of their mutual acquaintance. Confronting him that night, he acknowledged nonchalantly that he did indeed have a romantic relationship with the other man; that he had always known he was in part, if not entirely, queer; and that while he regretted misleading her, his principal reason for marrying her had been in response to pressure from his family. They agreed to file for divorce; a shell-shocked Lois fled the state, carrying with her at least a suspicion that the marriage had failed because she was a bad wife.

Candle Key was unpleasantly hot and she felt isolated in her shiny new home. It had been while getting her car serviced that she first encountered Junior Allen; a deeply tanned, smiling, very confident Southerner - from near Biloxi - whose pleasant manner created an opening in Lois' fragile reserve. It was as if Allen - quick, formidable, of immense physical strength - had identified her vulnerability and targeted her as a lion looks for wounded zebras. Her formal manners were no match for his outwardly civil assertiveness; desperate for a friend, she yielded to his importuning. 

They met for a cocktail in a dark lounge near the beach; striving for a confident manner, perhaps sensing her peril, she had one martini too many on an empty stomach. Solicitously he insisted on taking her "to lie down" and drew her out into the deserted, palm-lined road; she staggered along, supported by his muscular arm, too sick to do anything but keep her balance, stopping twice on the way to throw up. Junior did not appear in the least perturbed; he coaxed her along, muttering small endearments, until she focused enough to register that she was now on his boat. Where did a gas station mechanic obtain such a large cruiser, she wondered momentarily. 

Smiling and chuckling, he drew her into the darkened cabin. There, brushing aside her fluttering attempts to resist, ignoring her pleading, he deftly peeled her out of her light, now stained summer dress, snapped her bra, stripped off her panties and lifted her as though she were weightless onto the large bed that dominated the cabin. Events became blurred.

She woke later in a daze, amid damp and tousled sheets, her head pounding. Disoriented, she collected her thoughts and slowly remembered where she was. The memories of the night crashed down on her. Stripped naked, she had been placed on her back, while a happy Junior arranged her long, slender legs on top of his very broad shoulders so that she was helplessly presented to him. He immediately entered her and drew a strangled gasp as he plunged his rigid cock to the hilt. He plundered her thus for what seemed an eternity; flipped her over as if she were a child's doll and fucked her doggy style before returning her to her original position. It had been so long that her body did make some response; she became wet and gasped as his cock thrust deeply, withdrew, then thundered back. But she must have passed out shortly thereafter; she did remember his exultant, snarling cry as he spurted his seed into her. 

Looking over, she saw his broad chest moving slowly. His face seemed curiously expressionless as he slept. Slipping as quietly as she could off the bed, wobbling slightly, she looked around for her clothes. A trickle of liquid ran down her thigh; appalled, she wiped it away. Her rear ached; she recalled that Junior had repeatedly fondled her secret opening while he fucked her, so that she had weakly struggled to lift herself off the intruding fingers. Naked, she wobbled across the deck. Before realizing she was being watched. She turned and attempted to cover her breasts and neatly trimmed pubis with her hands; an alert Junior, immensely muscled, fresh as a daisy, grinned at her. 

"Good mornin'. Don't be in such a hurry. I want you to come back here for a little while. Then you can make us some coffee."

Lacking the will to deny him, still queasy and weak, she reluctantly turned her steps. Cat-like, he swung his legs over and sat on the edge of the bed. His naked body, broad and strong, was deeply tanned and bore a number of crude, aged tattoos. She noticed fearfully that his cock - of average size - was tumescent and shiny with what she realized must be her secretions.

"Kneel down there. Take me in your mouth and suck."

The request took a moment to register in her not-fully awake mind. As it sank in, she realized its import. Increasingly frightened, she could only shake her head violently. While she had heard of this act, and even attempted a fumbling attempt on her honeymoon - which met with little enthusiasm - the prospect of performing such an intimate attention on this powerful, intimidating, impenetrable figure was unimaginable. Shaking her head in a mute appeal, she stuttered "But I can't do that."

Still smiling, he came instantly to his feet and seized her tangled, but still lustrous hair tightly. Protesting, crying out, she was pulled onto his lap where he placed her face down, her long legs trapped vice-like between his powerful thighs. Brushing aside her feeble resistance, he effortlessly secured both her slender wrists in one shovel-sized hand. "Now little lady, here's your first lesson." 

Her pale, beautifully rounded buttocks were presented to his gaze; she was utterly helpless in his grip. Terrified, she craned her neck back and beseeched him to let her go. Instead - still smiling pleasantly - he raised one broad palm and brought it down with appalling force on her bared bottom, so that she screamed piercingly, in shock, pain and humiliation, transported back suddenly to an early memory when she had been punished for some childhood offence.

His hand burned like fire, and she writhed in the relentless grip of his iron legs. He began to spank her steadily and methodically, rhythmically delivering stinging slaps, now on the side of her buttock, now straddling both cheeks, sometimes repeating on the same spot, which quickly became violently sensitive. Her shrieks of pain and indignation served only to bring a smile to his face; he held her effortlessly and punished her wherever he chose. The agony of her tormented flesh washed over her in waves; her furious shrieks and threats of official retribution soon changed to pleas for mercy. Both were equally ineffectual in stemming the relentless spanking, for which Junior's large hands and thick, coarse skin were admirably adapted. 

The smacks echoed around the cabin; her pale skin glowed a bright pink as she twisted and cried out. Finally, as the steady punishment continued without let up, she was reduced to hopelessly weeping like a baby, her finely molded features beslobbered with tears;. Even so, the powerful blows continued to resound off her flesh, until with one final mighty smack, which left the outline of his hand on her flesh, he ceased the punishment. He was not even out of breath, while Lois shook and shuddered, her gasps and sobs only gradually lessening. 

He let her slip from the grip of his thighs, and she slid to the ground, her naked body curled in a fetal position. He allowed her a moment to catch her breath; then, gripping her hair again, he drew her to her knees. "You all could have avoided all that, little lady. Now do as you were told...unless you want some more." Kneeling submissively before him, she observed through her tears that he was fully tumescent. Gingerly she gave a quick kiss to the tip of the cock that touched her wet face; a cruel yank of her hair advised her to open her mouth and accept him. 

Admitting him, she attempted a clumsy oral caress; when she inadvertently scraped his shaft with her small white teeth, he tugged her hair back, then suddenly yanked it violently up, sending a stab of pain across her scalp. "Cover your teeth with your lips, and use your tongue." She followed his orders and began to suck him, licking the length of his cock, then taking it deeper. She recoiled when she encountered the sticky residues coating it; but by then he was holding the back of her head and steadily fucking her face, penetrating further into her with each stroke. 

She began to gag, but he simply continued his intrusion; she regurgitated slightly, and he pressed deeper until he was at the entrance to her throat. Violently tossing her head, she gasped for air, pleading through the gag of his cock for a moment's respite. 

This apparently only stimulated him to greater efforts; he pushed forward into her throat and held himself there, chuckling at her wordless pleas. Her head was pressed against him; he had penetrated her mouth her so deeply that the base of his phallus now pressed against her lips. She was helpless, choking; desperately she fellated him with her lips and tongue, his iron grip holding her cock in place, until with great relief she sensed him swelling and felt his ejaculation approach. 

His come splashed against the back of her throat and she retched, but desperately swallowed it; he finally finished, and the suffocating, tormenting bar of flesh began to soften. He did not withdraw until she had swallowed every drop of his come. Then he allowed her to collapse, sobbing, onto the deck, her bottom burning, her mouth aching, and her face smeared with tears and semen.

The day passed in a haze of pain and misery. He allowed her to take a shower, and don a pair of panties. Thus scantily clad, she set about preparing coffee and breakfast for him. He required a good slug of bourbon in his coffee, and made her drink as well; in spite of the previous night's alcoholic oblivion she welcomed the dulling of her sensitivities that the drink provided. In the afternoon he demanded another bout of oral attention; lying back on the bed he directed her efforts. 

She was acquiring greater skill with practice; as before, he came in her mouth and made sure she consumed each drop, collecting the residue from her chin with a stubby finger and putting it between her soft, slackened lips. When she tried to close her eyes and hide, he insisted she look at him throughout the sucking. She cringed as, nearly naked, she cleaned the cabin and performed a variety of chores. At all times she felt his fierce gaze on her slender, almost nude body. She had stolen a look at her bottom in the head mirror; it remained bright pink, with one darker hand print, and it was only with difficulty that she was able to sit down. Her only recourse was to please him; a recurrence of the endless, agonizing, humiliating spanking must be avoided at all costs. And she had no doubt that would be her fate if she resisted or displeased him in any way. 

She cooked supper - the boat was surprisingly well supplied with provisions - on the galley stove and served him humbly, wincing when he caressed her bottom and gave her breast a squeeze. She waited at the counter to refresh his drink; he ate with a good appetite, smiling and chucking her under the chin. Belching, he stood up, shucked off his jeans and lay back on the bed. His cock began to stiffen and rise, and he made a small gesture to her. 

Obediently she took off her panties and naked, knelt alongside him, kissing his penis and licking it, then taking it into her mouth to suck submissively. He groaned in pleasure and began to stroke her buttocks; she stiffened in pain and fear. Suddenly, he lept to life, took her and pushed her face down onto the bed. Taken aback, in a moment she was helpless beneath him as he lept on top of her, straddled her waist and trapped her frail arms under his knees. Her face was pressed into the pillows; his great weight on her back held her almost motionless.

Junior looked appreciatively at the pink, entirely vulnerable cheeks in front of him. Reaching to the bedside table, he opened a jar of Vaseline and scooped out a quantity. Leaning forward and pulling aside one of the unfortunate girl's soft buttocks, he exposed her pink, shy anal opening and commenced to rub the lubricant well in, entering her narrow passage with first one, then two, and finally three thick fingers. Lois screamed repeatedly, but her cries were muffled; it made no difference anyway to her captor, who continued with his intrusive caressing, until the young woman's opening glistened with grease and was gaping open beneath his ministrations. 

Like a cat Junior reversed his position on top of her; placing his rigid member against her parted entrance, he thrust forward. Then Mrs. Lois Atkinson, member of the Junior League, product of a top girl's boarding school, was forcibly and deeply sodomized by a laughing, chortling Junior Allen, who took his pleasure at length in her most secret place, Added to her pain and utter humiliation was the terrible feeling that she would be forced to evacuate her bowels; then he would thrust deeper still, so that she would squeal and cry out. It was not until Lois was limp underneath him that he finished, spurting an ocean of hot fluid into her deepest being. Even then he would not leave her be, but forced her to suck him clean, submissively licking away the brown streaks from her rectum that decorated his cock. She complied, and collapsed.



Kidnapped and Defiled Ch. 02



Skillfully wielded, the supple cane cut across Lois' exquisite naked bottom a third time, driving a squeal through the rolled up panties filling the young woman's mouth as she violently struggled against the sudden agony, the handcuffs that held her slender wrists anchored high over her head. The soft, slender globes of her bottom were now marked with parallel red weals on their almost translucent surface, creating a remarkable contrast on the satiny, pearl-like flesh . The girl's writhings and hopping had barely subsided when Fancha, her dusky features alight with enjoyment, delivered a carefully calculated fourth stroke, which angled across the markings of the first three and drove Lois' suffering to an excruciating level, exacerbating as it did the burning pain already inflicted. 

Laughing gleefully, Fancha listened with appreciation to Lois' muffled howling, and watched with pleasure the mad dancing that her cane stimulated. Lois pulled desperately on the chain that held her, desperate to soothe the violated flesh of her burning buttocks with her soft palms. She had given up trying to preserve her dignity; the pain and humiliation were too much. Gradually the sharpness of the pain ebbed, and her vain efforts to distract from it slowed. As soon as she saw that the girl had relaxed her frenzied jerking, Fancha cut her again, with the cane now held at an angle. Several more vicious strokes followed, until she was out of breath enough to be obliged to desist. Dropping the cane onto the deck, and wiping her perspiring forehead, she stalked towards the slumping, shaking white body and thrust her dusky pointed breasts, their nipples fully erect, against the shuddering bosom of her victim. Fancha ripped away the tape covering the girl's mouth, and reaching in extracted the balled up, damp panty gag. Then she pressed her full lips against Lois' trembling mouth.

Lois had experienced deep French kissing, if only when making out in a car after the prom at her prestigious academy; but most certainly never with a woman. She flinched away from Fancha's probing tongue, closing her lips and averting her face. Her captor's breath smelled of liquor, though it was otherwise not unpleasant; strong brown arms encircled her waist, one squeezing a small though well-shaped breast, the other groping a tender buttock.

"Weeelll, looks like we aren't ready yet."

With her leering smile still on her face, seemingly not perturbed by Lois' rejection, Fancha stepped away from her bound victim and picked up the cane from the deck. Lois watched her apprehensively over her shoulder; however the caning did not begin again immediately. Instead Fancha drew a line on the girl's inner thigh with the tip of the cane.

"Step your feet apart. No, further."

Fearfully Lois complied, then wished she hadn't. The cane bit into the very soft skin of her inner thigh, driving a scream from her lungs as a new level of agony was created. She snapped her legs back together and clenched them desperately, swaying from the pipe in an attempt to deflect additional attention to that tenderest of places.

"You spread them back out now. Or I'll whip you across those nice little titties. Or maybe on that pretty face. "

The cane traced a line down her cheek. Weeping she separated her thighs again, and squealed with pain as the cane slashed across them several times. A cruel beating ensued, delivered to her inner thighs, bottom and the small of her long, shapely back. Screams echoed in the cabin; but the boat was anchored out in the bay, and there was no-one to hear. She was trapped in this horrible space entirely alone with her tormentor, who wore a look of almost fiendish delight as she inflicted these painful indignities. She writhed, shrieked, howled, begged that Fancha stop – if only for a moment. It was not however until many minutes later, when Lois had subsided into a hopeless, steady sobbing, that Fancha put down her instrument and, stepping forward, again brought her insistent mouth to the girl's bruised lips.

This time Lois submitted, allowing Fancha's probing tongue into her soft mouth, and timidly responding to its caresses with her own little pink organ. Fancha probed her entire oral cavity, licking the insides of her cheeks, exploring her pearly teeth, sucking on her and forcing her mouth open to its furthest extreme. The Haitian girl's fingers explored the parting of her bottom, fingering her anus – the raised circle of muscle was wet with perspiration and opened more readily than before. Lois made little resistance to these attentions; she was quite sure she could not bear even one more stroke of the vicious, supple cane. Strong fingers probed her soft pussy, finding her clitoris and fondling it, which brought a gasp from the girl. 

Two fingers buried themselves in her narrow vagina, and began a strong stroking motion. Humiliated, Lois moaned and writhed; she did not dare break the kiss, and stood linked to her captor at both ends. Standing on near tiptoe as she was, she could not lift herself off the impaling fingers; she was thoroughly massaged and masturbated, and the wetness created by her skilled partner soon began to make itself heard in squelching sounds that deeply embarrassed her. The scent of her musk began to fill the room; satisfied, Fancha paused the endless kiss, reached for the handcuff key and freed Lois' aching wrists. Motioning to the bed, she gave the pale huddled girl a push. 

Lois shuffled carefully in the direction bidden, looking fearfully back at the dark figure of the Haitian. Gingerly she lay down on her side, gasping as her tender bottom touched the rough blanket. Fancha slid onto the bed facing her, placed a strong arm around the girl's slender neck, and drew her back into a kiss. She continued her exploration's of Lois' soft orifice, sucking hard on her tongue and dripping saliva onto its surface. Desperately afraid of being returned to the handcuffs, Lois made an attempt at a response; she caressed the stronger one with small fluttering and stroking, reciprocated the tongue sucking. A sudden sensation caused her to arch her body; Fancha had thrust a finger to its full length into her anus, where it probed and stroked. The passage was still tender from Junior's recent incursions, so that the sliding movements caused the girl to wince. Fancha ceased her probing.

"Now you squeeze my finger with your ass. Make like you're milking Junior's cock."

Obediently, Lois clenched her sphincter around the stubby digit, released, then squeezed again. Fancha purred, then slipped her finger out and brought it to Lois' mouth.

"Now open up and suck me clean. You got a sweet little ass; should taste good."

Her finger bore only the slightest odor; Lois had been allowed to shower earlier and had frantically scrubbed and squirted water up her ass to remove all traces of Junior. Lois sucked it submissively, the process then being repeated. Fancha lifted herself up and pushed back to lean against the head board, parting her legs wide. Lois crouched below her; looking up she saw that Fancha's pussy bore a coarse mat of hair, with a bright pink slit that glistened with moisture. She parted her lips so that Lois could clearly see each detail of her cunt, extraordinarily contrasting to her dark hair and skin. The clitoris stood up in a pronounced manner; a not totally unpleasant odor of sex drifted across Lois' nostrils. 

"Now you going to kiss me and suck me till I tell you to stop."

A hesitation, and a violent, painful pull on her hair brought Lois' mouth to the waiting sex. She placed her lips tentatively on the pink flesh, and noticed its extraordinary soft smooth texture.

"You lick me all up and down, and play with my little bud with yo' tongue." Another painful tug of the hair.

Lois began to lick the length of the wet slit, stopping at the end of her stroke to probe the erect clitoris with a fluttering tongue tip. Fancha began to groan and move her hips. Her pussy was extremely wet; Lois' face was soon soaked by the secretions. Her head was pressed into the flesh; she methodically licked, sucked and flicked. Anything was better than the cane.

"Now you put two fingers up me while you doing that. And you move them like you telling someone to come here."

Lois added the motion to her oral attention. Fancha's guttural moans increased in volume and tempo; her hips moved with Lois' kissing, and she held the small working head and rubbed against it up and down. Despite her fear and reluctance, caught up in her partner's passionate groans and movements, Lois sped up her servicing until Fancha reached a peak of pleasure, slowed her hip movement, then reached a second climax, and a third. She tapped Lois hard on the head; the latter stopped her working and caught her breath. Her face and hair were soaked; the fastidious young society matron now smelled strongly of pussy. But her task was far from complete.

"Now lick my asshole. And you put your tongue up it as far as it will reach."

Lois flinched at this suggestion. But her hair was tightly gripped in a strong dusky hand, and Fancha began to pull slowly, then gave Lois' head a couple of violent shakes, so that her scalp felt as though it was being torn away. Sobbing, she bent to her new task; Fancha had adjusted her stance so that her dark asshole, sprinkled with a few fine hairs, was fully accessible. Like her cunt, its interior was pink. Obediently Lois began lapping at the ring of muscle; it had a distinct taste, but she forced herself to proceed. Fancha groaned with pleasure and the small hole began to open; as instructed, Lois started to slip the tip of her pretty pink tongue inside. Never in her worst nightmare had she imagined that, with burning buttocks, she would be orally stimulating the rear entrance of a Haitian harlot. 

Fancha took longer to climax this time; she luxuriated in the attention, emitting a series of lustful sounds and delivering commands to lick faster, slower, deeper, finally reaching what was evidently an extremely intense peak. Frozen in ecstasy for a few moments, she then moved into action and pushed Lois down on her back. She situated her open pussy over the girl's mouth, and Lois began submissively to lick. Instead her mouth received a sudden and copious gush of urine, causing her to shriek and choke. Fancha calmly reached around and clamped her victim's nostrils closed; this compelled her to ingest a good deal of the acrid yellow fluid. Finally the torrent ceased; sobbing, dripping and gagging, Lois was allowed to go to the head to clean herself up.

As she desperately scrubbed and rinsed herself, Fancha's drawling voice sounded through the doorway. "Junior be back tonight. He bringing a friend; I think he from Sweden maybe. You going to suck him in front of us, like a welcoming; show us what you learn. The men going to want to see you with me, too. Then maybe you do all of us together; in your ass, an' your pussy, an' your mouth. You going get a workout, lil miss. Perhaps Junior want me to whip you some more; so you better work good."



Kidnapped and Defiled Ch. 03



Lois Atkinson – one time Junior League young matron, educated at an exclusive East Coast private school, at some lost point in time socially prominent in her affluent suburb – stirred in her sleep. The pale light of dawn pierced the windows of the spacious sea cruiser where she lay, a pale slim shape, on a narrow mattress on the deck. Her head hurt vaguely, a result of the previous day's constant sipping of vodka. But she needed that, she told herself, to dull the indignities and sexual humiliation to which her companions subjected her throughout each day and night. 

As her consciousness surfaced and she turned onto her back, she was made aware that her soft buttocks still carried the smart from where, two days earlier, Fancha had handcuffed her slender wrists to a staple high on a post, and thoroughly whipped her white ass with a lithe cane for a perceived lack of enthusiasm in her duties; which in this instance involved repeatedly licking and sucking the Haitian's plump labia and puckered asshole until she came. Sobbing and struggling helplessly, she was desperate for the excruciating punishment to stop, and once freed, willingly performed her task, to Fancha's considerable satisfaction.

As she sat up, the stinging emanating from the soft flesh of her bottom was joined by a dull ache in her tender rectum. Junior Allen – her smiling, powerful, sinister captor – had taken her in the rear early on, and her anal orifice was his preferred point of entry. Evidently he enjoyed the shocked and shameful reaction provoked in his victim by this outrageous form of incursion; Lois had never imagined such an activity existed, let alone that she would be repeatedly subjected to it; her husband had never expressed more than a cursory interest in things sexual. 

Her ass had adapted to a degree to the thrusting presence of Junior Allen's engorged member, and she no longer experienced the sharp anal pain of the first few assaults. However, he seemed to savor a degree of pain in his partner, and aggressively ploughed her till she was crying in discomfort and humiliation. Now, she feared, her anus was stretched permanently open, and she flinched at the thought of the contents of her bowels leaking through the gaping entrance; a fear enhanced by feeling the trickle of come that was the residue of Junior's last incursion. 

Her daily routine was now more or less established. Upon awakening, Junior Allen would roughly take her in her mouth, obliging her to suck him until he came, which he did with great vigor, holding her ears tightly so that the hot spurts hit the back of her soft throat. She had become better at controlling her gag reflex, and could now take him deep; still, he enjoyed thrusting into her as far as possible and watching with keen enjoyment as she struggled to swallow his copious emissions without choking. 

Once or twice he had placed her on her back on the counter, draped her legs over his shoulders and fucked her pussy, studying her expressions as he moved back and forth. But he appeared to derive greater satisfaction from inflicting the humiliation of oral and anal entry; and she was always obliged to lick him clean afterwards, a particularly distasteful activity when he had been in her ass. Apart from an old man's shirt worn open, she was always naked, her rear and front on display to her captors.

Throughout the hours she cleaned and cooked. In the course of the long day Junior Allen would usually seize her dark, soft hair at least once and force her to her knees to suck and swallow. When he was done with her, it was Fancha's turn. Sometimes in private, sometimes in front of Junior Allen, Lois would be obliged to serve the Haitian harlot's whims, pressing her pale, shocked face into the innermost recesses of Fancha's pussy and asshole to lick and suck her with her pretty pointed tongue. As evening came, Junior and Fancha would confer about Lois' behavior that day. Had she been utterly compliant? Had she shown enthusiasm? Was she acquiring skill in performing her appointed tasks? Invariably there was a reproof, resulting in the girl, pleading and protesting, being placed in the handcuffs high on the cabin post.

Stretched on tiptoe, she looked fearfully over her shoulder as Fancha – the appointed agent of punishment – fetched either the lithe cane or (if Lois' transgressions were not so very severe) a short whip. She was a mistress of slow, deliberate punishment, judging finely the moment when the pain from one stripe had started to recede, which called for a new infliction. Her aim was also excellent, allowing her (if she chose) to lay one stripe directly on top of another, to Lois' agonized consternation. The instrument of pain selected, Fancha then gleefully chastised Lois' squirming delicate buttocks, white thighs, and lower back – occasionally the girl's small breasts and flat, soft stomach - with anywhere from six to fifteen strokes. In the latter case, once released Lois would collapse into a weeping, mewing, boneless heap on the deck, her screams and sobs having been completely disregarded. 

Junior Allen, smiling as always, then simply picked her up, dropped her face down on his bunk, spat on his hand to lubricate his by now rigid cock, spread apart the girl's buttocks and thrust into her squirming rectum, alternating deep and shallow strokes so that Lois gasped and cried out repeatedly, impaled and writhing helplessly beneath his heavy, powerful body, until he was satisfied. Certainly her cries and protests encouraged him to draw out the ordeal; he always continued steadily until Lois was completely subdued, all resistance gone. When her sobbing had quieted and she no longer struggled, when she simply gasped and reflexively tightened the walls of her rectum on his flesh as he thrust almost to her heart; then he would speed up his pace and roar with pleasure as he peaked, the voice emanating from his broad chest drowning the thin squeal – was it of pain, embarrassment, or perhaps pleasure? - that Lois gave as she felt her innermost depths sprayed with a seemingly endless series of hot, gushing spurts.

Dawn had broken and Junior Allen would be requiring his early morning oral attentions. She stood up, rinsed her mouth, and plodded over to his bunk. If she kneeled beside him as he lay and began to stimulate him with her mouth, sometimes he would lie back and allow her to pleasure him, instead of thrusting deep into her throat. He was erect, a good eight inches of engorged, uncircumcized flesh sticking straight up. Lowering her head, she kissed the purple tip, licked it thoroughly, then popped it into her mouth. Sucking slowly and carefully, she drew it in for almost its full length; paused, while caressing the shaft with her tongue; then let it slide back through her full lips. He stirred, so she quickly repeated the motion. Feeling her master's gaze on her she opened her soft, beautiful eyes wide to acknowledge him respectfully; he enjoyed seeing her doe-like, submissive expression as her mouth was stretched wide by his thick cock. 

She looked up obediently as she sucked him; she felt a trickle of pre-come on the head, and took care to swallow it as she moved her head slowly up and down. On this occasion Junior seemed content to allow her to service him; a few more attentions and she felt his shaft thicken, his body shifted and he began to come. Almost without warning her mouth was filled with warm, fountaining liquid, which she quickly swallowed, making as she did so small sounds of ecstasy that hopefully conveyed suitable appreciation of her master's nectar. 

She continued to suck him, and swallow, until the flow of come subsided; he made a curt motion of his head, indicating that her work was, for the moment, complete. She inspected his wet cock to make sure that it was licked clean; then hastened to the head to brush her teeth, gulp a measure of vodka, and remove the salty, sticky taste of Junior's sperm. The vodka distracted her with its warm glow; she took another sip, then began to prepare breakfast.

The day passed unusually, without demands from Junior or Fancha for her to present her various parts for duty. In the middle of the long, sunny afternoon, Junior left on an unspecified errand. However the presence of Fancha, Lois' nude state, and the fact that the boat was moored on an island far from anyone else all ensured that the chances of escape were nil. Instead, Fancha regarded her with appraisal. "Do you know where it was Junior went?"

Lois expressed a lack of knowledge about the doings of her master. "He's out with an old shipmate. Swedish. He's going to bring him back to the boat. Then you and I are going to put on a show for the men. You better get ready; when I'm done with you, you'll have to pleasure them both."Then, laughing gleefully "Maybe me as well. Maybe all at the same time. How do you like that, Miss? Not so high and mighty as before, are we? Guess getting your ass tanned regular changes your attitude some. Think I'll tell Junior you were difficult today; then we'll start the evening with you hooked up and wriggling while you wait for your butt to start burning. I've got an urge to make your white ass jump; before it gets fucked. 

Maybe I'll whip inside your thighs some this time; told that hurts a girl more than anything. The men will enjoy seeing a high class white bitch begging and howling, saying she'll take it in her mouth or ass if I stop whipping her...only for a minute. Makes them real hot." Lois blushed deeply; on occasion she had indeed shamefully offered to do anything to stop the relentless strokes that seared her backside.

As the afternoon drew to a close, Fancha told Lois to shower. "You wash up nicely; clean your ass and pussy, fix your hair. Put on some make up. You're going to be a special treat, all naked and white. Ever been fucked by a bunch of people at the same time? No, I don't think so. But you better do well; or you'll be even sorrier. Maybe Junior will have me heat up a wire hanger on the stove and lay it on your soft little ass. You likely to get some permanent reminders that you are first for Junior; and then me. You make those little sounds when you're taking it in the ass; I know you're liking it. You better be sure and be liking it; not just pretending. Pretending will get you fifteen strokes with the cane, tonight." 

And indeed, there had been occasions – for instance, when Junior's rhythm plunged him gradually deeper and deeper into her ass, so that she became a weightless ball of sensation, legs folded back, entirely at his mercy, raped and pillaged – when Lois had become moved in spite of herself, letting out a squeal of excitement, though often mingled with pain. Helpless before their superior strength and will, her role was to serve them without reservation. She was obliged to carry out any sex act whatsoever – occasionally Fancha would urinate in her mouth – and this utter lack of power occasionally stimulated her, so that she felt an urge to open herself completely to their depredations, pleasing herself when she pleased them. 

Her self-control, indeed her self-respect was under constant siege; from time to time it was easier to let it go, to be a sex slave, abandoning resistance (either physical or mental), to accept their attentions in her mouth, pussy, ass, with her hands; the previous night, Junior had come all over her face, so that it streamed with liquid. The impact of the hot semen swept her away; she was a fuck toy, a receptacle. Sometimes even the cane, setting her softest parts on fire, was stimulating, and the anal or oral ravishing that followed as she desperately tried to soothe her burning flesh, exquisitely fulfilling. She sensed that she was being steered into a state of masochistic acceptance; but not too quickly, since they were enjoying breaking her down and seeing her indignation and humiliation as she was forced into some new degenerate act.

The sun set and the lights in the cabin turned on. Lois had bathed and applied makeup; hoop earrings hung from her delicate ears. She was a highly attractive sight, with long, slender limbs, small but perfect breasts, a trim figure that still had some lushness, and soft raven hair that framed sensitive features and enormous dark eyes. One might think she came close to perfection; which made the stripes that decorated her small rounded buttocks all the more remarkable. In the head she had applied mineral oil to her front and back passages in anticipation of multiple penetrations; she wore a light perfume, and was slightly drunk. 

Fancha had instructed her to stand in the corner like a naughty child; she was very conscious of her naked bottom's vulnerability, and flinched when Fancha approached her. But the Haitian merely patted,her, squeezed her breasts, and stuck a hard wet tongue in her ear. Fancha had shaved Lois' pussy days ago; her small plump bare labia were divided by a deep cleft, which glistened slightly from the lubrication she had applied. She felt shame, something close to despair, and a certain kind of excitement; she was naked, marked, a slave, stripped of her dignity and awaiting vigorous usage in all parts of her.

She faced the corner planks obediently, but soon heard sounds on the gangway and peeked over her shoulder. The cabin door opened, and Junior – apparently slightly impaired – staggered in, accompanied by a large Nordic-looking man of similar build, clearly another sailor. They brought with them a strong smell of liquor. "We're back; this is my friend Sven...brought him to meet Miss High and Mighty here. She's going to be very nice to him, best she can be. Whatever my friend wants...clear on that? Come over and introduce yourself."

Pushed by Fancha, Lois walked shyly over to the disheveled big man, who had slumped onto a stool yet was awake enough to observe her with keen interest and admiration. Motioning with a hand, he signaled her to show him her backside. Blushing at the thought of how her striped ass must look, she turned and faced away from him, head down, feeling his eyes devouring her marked, but beautifully shaped, bottom. "Now you go sit on his lap and give him a kiss." Lois walked over and eased herself onto Sven's lap. She put her arms around his neck and opened her mouth to his. His hard tongue, redolent of scotch, immediately thrust into her soft orifice. She entwined her tongue with his and they mingled saliva; she gently rubbed her bottom against his lap, feeling him grow hard. 

Reaching down, she rubbed his penis through his canvas pants; Sven growled and embraced her with frightening strength. She stroked his cock; then unbuttoned his pants and grasped the hot flesh, easing it out of his long johns. It stood erect, pulsing with blood, a splash of liquid on the tip. So far, she was doing well. She let herself slip off his lap onto her knees in front of him. Grasping his cock, she fondled it, then kissed it. It jerked at her touch; she parted her lips and took it in, sucking as she had been forcibly taught. She began an up and down motion, taking it in deeply, then retreating to lick the base of the head. Sven moaned, and the liquid on his cock tip increased. All three of her captors watched in fascination as she slowly, deeply fellated him; her soft lips spread by the swollen shaft, her tongue busy. Obediently she looked up at him; he grinned with satisfaction as she slid her mouth almost to the base of his organ, her eyes widening as it filled her throat.

"Well, wait a minute here!" It was Junior, smiling but apparently annoyed. "Looks like Miss here is enjoying this. She needs to learn to mind, first. Then maybe she can start enjoying herself. Fancha, put this bitch on the post."

Smiling fiendishly, Fancha grasped Lois' hair hard and pulled her upright, popping Sven's hard cock out of her mouth ("Say Junior, I was enjoying that!") and, holding her wrists, dragged het to the wooden post and closed the dangling handcuffs on her wrists. One again she was raised almost on tiptoe, facing the post, her long back, round bottom, and soft thighs exposed. She started to plead to be allowed to continue the blow job; that she would do anything...anything...but please not to whip her...she was already so sore...

"Fancha, shut that bitch up." The Haitian pushed a damp rag into Lois' mouth and tied a bandanna around it. Effectively silenced, Lois could only mew piteously and send beseeching glances from her dilated, frightened eyes. Perhaps Sven would intercede to spare her from the punishment she knew was coming. But the big sailor was staring in excited anticipation at her naked body, then wolfishly at the cane that Fancha now held. His cock was still out, and seemed more engorged than ever. He touched himself, then nodded eagerly at Junior. No help there. Fancha stepped behind her; she tried to steel herself, to anticipate the pain and fight it. A whistle and a crack; then an agonizing flash of pure pain. Fancha had struck her hard on the inside thigh, an inch or two below her pussy; the softest flesh on a woman's body. 

Lois squealed through the gag and flung herself around, desperate to soothe the vicious bite of the cane. Another blow landed on the other thigh, so that Lois (to the amusement of the onlookers) hurled herself to the other side, staggering on tiptoe back and forth across the deck, her wrists confined above her head. Then a third stroke across her exposed buttocks, stirring the old stripes into new life; a fourth cut across her thighs just below the curve of her bottom. Lois was howling through the gag; these new tortures were more exquisitely painful than any of the simple beatings her buttocks had previously suffered. She sobbed and wailed, but her cries were muffled by the gag; would this never stop? 

Five, six, seven, eight...her inner thighs were striped like a zebra, her buttocks were aflame, and as she twisted wildly in her bonds one cut slashed across her soft little tummy, branding it vividly. It was going to be the full fifteen tonight; Fancha worked the cane across the soft, sensitive flesh as Lois became hysterical, shaking her head violently and causing tears to fly from her eyes. Thirteen, fourteen; applied up and down her body; and fifteen, a slash that neatly intersected the brightest stripes on her buttocks, and hurt very much more than any of those preceding it.

The room was warm; Lois hung from the handcuffs, sobbing brokenly. "Take her down and get her ready." The cuffs were unlocked, the gag removed; limping, she was brought over and made to lie on her back on a low table. The Haitian, now also stripped naked, straddled her face; Fancha had also shaved her bush and her pink cleft bulged. "Now, eat her. Make sure you get her asshole real clean, too". A dusky bottom was pushed against her face; desperate to escape further whipping, Lois opened her lips and began to lick Fancha's soaking pussy, which was surprisingly sweet. A hand guided her head to Fancha's small rosebud of an asshole; Lois obediently lapped at it with her little pink tongue, then prbed inside with the tip. It tasted musky and strange; the other girl began to moan and move back and forth beneath the ministrations, rubbing her pussy and ass on the girl's face, which was soon sopping wet. The men watched as the two bodies intertwined; Fancha cried out as she popped one orgasm after another. Excited beyond measure, she lowered her mouth to Lois' shy, but naked, pussy, and began to lick and lap it. Then it was Lois' turn to moan and cry out through the wet, slippery flesh that pressed on her face.

Suddenly Junior stepped forward and roughly pushed Fancha off the table. The girl went flying and hit the hard floor with a loud bump. Ignoring her, Junior put a massively muscled arm around Lois and flipped her over, so that she was on all fours on the table. "Now you finish what you started with my friend Sven here." The other sailor stepped in front of Lois and presented his cock to her; she immediately commenced to suck it as lasciviously as she could. She felt a sharp sensation in her ass; Junior had parted her buttocks, manipulated her anus with a pair of fingers to stretch it open, then driven into her. 




Kidnapped and Defiled Ch. 03



He began a steady, driving rhythm, while Sven excitedly pushed deep into her helpless, though busy, mouth. Another sensation spread through her body; Fancha, naked between Junior's legs, was fondling her pussy with one, two three, four fingers, moving them in and out of her now soaking vagina. Every opening was filled; her whole body was soft, her tongue thrilled the big Swede while she attempted to squeeze Junior's cock in her muscular anal ring. She writhed under Fancha's skillful touch; she was soaked in sweat. Sven came in her mouth and she swallowed the liquid without breaking stride; Junior erupted in her ass. 

Without a pause the two men switched places; Lois sucked the liquids from her ass from Junior's cock, which did not soften for a moment. Sven pushed into her asshole, which now gaped open, giving a glimpse of the soft wet rose velvet within. Fancha's fingers touched her in all her most sensitive places; her breasts were fondled, her ears licked, her hands spread her buttocks to enable the deepest entry into her ass. An overpowering surge of sensation, sweeter than honey, swept through her whole body; she began a wave of climax, crying out like a child, swept out of her mind, as with a drawn out roar the men climaxed simultaneously inside her. 

Events after that became a blur; she drank a great deal of vodka, and at one point felt a dull pain when both men, their bodies contorted, had their cocks in her now opened ass at the same time. She lost track of the number of times they came in her mouth, her ass, and her pussy; she was given a break to observe the two men double penetrating a gasping, sobbing Fancha. Drunk, asswhipped, smeared with every kind of liquid, dripping come from her lower openings, her hair stiff with semen, Mrs. Atkinson finally passed out on the deck.



Kidnapped and Milked



There was no way a woman like that would be alone in a bar. A man would always be at her side, possessive, the way a lion watches over his kill. Eric was hoping to meet a woman, as he finally had a free evening to himself and at this bar there were more than enough to choose from. Blonde, brunette, tall, short, busty, they were all there though but he wasn't interested in anyone but the tall woman with jet black hair and the sliver locket. 

She noticed him the moment he came in as well. He was the man she was looking for and came up to him soon after he ordered his first drink. Soon after they started talking her hand was on his knee and they were talking like old friends. The entire time he felt himself erect and he couldn't help but imagine what she looked liked naked. 

Her lips were full, with a moist gleam of red and her hair gave off a warm scent. There was an aura of sex emanating from her that spoke to exactly what he needed. Out of nowhere there was a kiss- a bold, no restraint kiss that came at a pause in the conversation when Eric found himself entranced by the sight of her legs, sliding from the tight skirt she wore and he was caught. 

It wasn't unpleasant, merely surprising. She was forceful and he felt her tongue licking his lips and pressing inside him as he opened. Their tongues darted together and slipped over one another. When they broke he was out of breath and breathing heavily. She had a powerful look in her eyes, daring him. Tentatively, he reached for his beer and inhaled a deep swallow. Feeling the rush down his throat, filling his insides, he studied her. He made to speak and opened his mouth at the moment everything went black.

* * * *

Time had passed but he couldn't tell how much or even what day it is. Eric woke up on his back in the middle of a strange room. He came to slowly, looking around and wondering what had happened. There was a door at the foot of the bed and as he looked down he realized he was naked. 

He moved to cover himself but realized he could not. His arms felt bolted to the table and his legs were made of lead. There was a haze in his head and a struggle to keep his eyes open but despite this he felt calm. His penis, unlike the rest of his body, felt light. It was stiffened to his fullest and pointing upwards. It pulsed in time with his breathing and bobbed lazily in the air.

The door open and a tall blonde wearing only a silk knee length robe walked in. It seemed as if she was floating she walked so purposefully. Coming to his side, she places a warm hand on his chest just above a nipple and looked over a clipboard that lay on a nightstand at his head.

Pads were connected to his temples, chest and groin and, as she read, she fiddled with them aimlessly. After some time, while Eric had helplessly watched her, she finally spoke.

"You were selected," a quick thumbing through of pages, "...Eric, because you have the qualities women seek in a mate to pass to their children." His eyes showed a range of emotions; curiosity, lust, anger, fear. "I can see you're wondering how you got here. I'm not at liberty to name names but a former girlfriend submitted your name as a prime candidate."

"Right now your mind is no doubt going through your mental rolodex wondering who it was that you slept with and had reason to put you in such a place but that is irrelevant now. What should concern you is where you are and why you are here."

She stepped back and took a moment to examine him. His body was near perfect. Broad, wide shoulders with a strong build, well muscled legs and a complexion that belied a healthy lifestyle and predilection for exercise. Most importantly his cock was full, thick and easily aroused. Even without help from her it stood proud and unwavering. His balls, the most important part of this exercise, were heavy and full. She held them delicately in her hand and assessed their weight. Eric commanded his limbs to move to protect himself but they remained dormant. 

"You will be drained of your seed though a series of techniques, some enjoyable, others less so- some downright painful. However, they have all been scientifically designed to get the maximum amount of fluid from your body." She spoke matter of factly, which worried him even more than he already was. He hadn't ejaculated in days and the thought of being helpless in a strange place as it was sucked from his body upset him. She was incredibly beautiful though, and he figured there were worse ways to be relieved. 

She playfully assessed his penis. Despite her obvious attempt at professionalism, she couldn't resist reaching to play with his equipment. One finger skated around the very tip of his swelled cockhead, tapping him on his hole while another pulled back his foreskin to display the full crown of his cock. He couldn't help but moan at her touch. Going a step further, she traced the distance around the rim of his cock, bringing a whine from the bottom of his throat. 

"I can assure you," she said, patting his erect penis playfully, "You won't be hurt. You won't enjoy the entirety of your stay here, in fact at the end of it I expect you'll be begging to leave, but you will never be injured or damaged in any way."

Around his naked body she was much happier. She knew it must be humiliating for him, to be so naked and vulnerable in front of a strange woman but that only added to her arousal. It was against the code to have intercourse with a subject but for the first time she considered it, even in light of the penalties for doing so. 

She couldn't keep her mind focused on the job at hand. Her eyes remained on the stiff beam of his cock as she went about her business. Smiling to herself, she found the tube of lotion and squirted a dollop onto her fingers. It made a wet, squishing sound as she coated her hands with it. 

Lazily she ran her hands over his shaft. He moaned in appreciation and she turned to smile at him. "I want you to enjoy this as much as you can. It won't always feel good so appreciate it when it does." Turning back to his cock she said, "We want a nice big load from you." 

Eric moaned, unable to do anything else. His limbs were useless at his side. All he could feel were the gentle urging motions of her hands. He pondered her words, unsure of what she meant. All he could think about now was the rhythmic motion of her hands expertly gliding over his bloated shaft. 

One hand maintained a slow squeezing pressure at the base while the other playfully flew up and down his length. Words attempted to form in his throat, he yearned to speak, but all that came out were unintelligible grunts. 

Her index finger and thumb clenched the base of his stem now while her free hand squeezed and juggled his balls. From the prone position he could see her face. She was smiling widely, obviously enjoying the task. The feelings passing through him- an urgent, unstoppable need to come- denied him any chance to think about his position. It was a strange place, and certainly a strange situation, yet it wasn't unpleasant. Already he could feel his balls tightening against his body. Each vessel of his body was heightened. He could feel the tiny tubes of his balls and the opened passage of his urethra, all readying for a heavy flow that churned inside his body, almost causing an ache. 

As she happily played with his balls, her other hands slowly pulled upwards, clenching tighter as it reached the head. He could feel his orgasm on the edge, being held in check by nothing but her tiny hands. If he could speak he would plead.

She relented and her fingers became soft and delicate. They began dancing on the head of his prick. A fingertip skated up and down his slit, causing his body to writhe. Her other hand squeezed his balls, firmly squeezing his load from his testicles like ripe fruit. As one solitary, lube slickened finger traced circles around his crown he could restrain himself no more. The effect was overpowering and he surrendered, his body falling limp as his orgasm burst forth. 

He could feel each motion; the rush of fluid from his body through his vessels, into his shaft, where it burned with a warmth indescribable. It hurt coming out, leaping from the tip of his prick with a speed that caused discomfort. His moan was that of pain. He yelped like a wounded dog and whined. Each spurt was as powerful as the last. Vulgar grunts accompanied each one and his face burned with shame as he felt relegated to nothing more than an animal. His cock flexed like a separate entity, forcing his seed out like a billows. It came out of him in a rush and he imagined the sight she had, a man so needy, so full of sperm that his entire body weakened to give his penis the strength it needed to force it out of him. Eventually, after what seemed to be countless pulses, he slowed. His body grew weak and he felt an irresistible wave of fatigue laying him still. 

At first he thought he'd passed out but he didn't even sleep. Time seemed to pass but he didn't realize it, caught in the peaceful moments as his body recovered from such a strenuous climax. His cock felt worn and sore though not unpleasant. 

When his eyes opened there were two women in front of him. The blonde stood at his left, while another woman, a younger looking brunette was at his right. The two were talking though he couldn't make out what they said. Slowly he slipped back. 

"Oh, he's back with us." The blonde's hand was resting comfortably on his balls. A thumb gently stroked his sack. 

Eric could feel his arms. Whatever they had drugged him with had worn off. Now his hands were immobile and bound by thin leather straps. He struggled but was too weak to make anything more than a show. The women looked down at him, broad grins on each of their faces. 

His penis felt tighter and a little sore. Looking down he saw a device had been attached to him. It held him in a clear plastic sheath-like skin that gripped his length. It was comfortable, almost too tight. As he watched, he began swelling. The blonde stood back while the brunette placed her hand beneath him and began squeezing his balls rhythmically. 

"He's had enough time to recover. We should be able to get a few more good loads out of it." Eric tried to speak but found he had not the strength. If they would release him, he'd promise to give them what they wanted in more enjoyable ways. They were beautiful women, after all. 

For the first time she addressed him. "Your semen came up as highly potent in our tests. You have just the amount we want and are the perfect donor." She looked him up and down, noting the fearful look in his eyes. "Just stay still and don't resist. We're going to take it from you. All you have to do is stay still and don't fight. It will be easier if you try to enjoy it." 

Enjoy it? It did feel very good, why would he resist? They were beautiful and he'd gone without for too long. He could use a good orgasm like the one he'd had. As he remembered his last orgasm, his cock grew with the help of the device as it powerfully sucked and pulled his member. It thickened larger than he was used to until it pressed obscenely against the tubing. The two women noticed this, their eyes growing wider. The brunette gasped in surprise and quickly dislocated it from his body. She was apologetic, addressing her partner; "I guess I put it on too high. The poor guy's in pain."

She was right, it hurt. His penis ached and the rough treatment it just received only made him more aware of what it had been through. The skin of his shaft, once a healthy cream color, was now a deep pink. He felt her tiny hand rest on him and lovingly stroke the worn skin. She began to manipulate him, her touch more unpracticed than the first nurse. 

His balls were throbbing from the first release, one that seemed to call up all the reserves in his body, but now a gentle, warm feeling returned as he felt his balls slowly begin producing more sperm. 

"That's it," the brunette cooed. He had closed his eyes, a soft smile spreading on his face. "Just lay back."

Those were the last words either of them spoke to him. For the rest of the evening he may as well have not been there. They didn't even look at him again. Instead they concentrated on his penis. They spoke to it as if it was separate from him. It was obvious they enjoyed their work though he couldn't help but feel like an instrument to them. 

They coated his shaft with a cooling salve that made him feel good. From what they said he learned it would repair the damaged skin he suffered from their treatment. It was rubbed into him slowly until he began to engorge once again.

When he was full he felt the release of their hands and watched as the blonde held a long, thin piece of stainless steel. It was rounded at the end and, as he watched, she began coating it with another slick lotion. She held the swollen head of his cock between her index finger and thumb. The tiny slit opened up and, so carefully, she inserted it into his shaft. Eric thought it would be intensely painful but only stung with a dull pain. More easily than he expected, it slid down the tube of his penis. He wanted to speak out and beg them to be careful with this most valued part of his body but he was unable to form words.

It created a subtle pressure that brought with it an undertone of pleasure. The shaft hardened in response and he discovered sensitivity he never noticed before. The inner walls of his urethra tingled and warmed as the gentle caress of the instrument passed by. 

She repeated the process, stimulating him further until he was moaning helplessly. The women looked at each other and smiled. His reaction was exactly what they had hoped for. The instrument was pulled out slowly and, just as slowly, pressed back into him. He could feel it at the very base of his shaft where it turned into a teasing sensation. His balls awakened so it seemed each of his vessels were alight. Sperm formed and slowly filled his genitals until it felt as if he would spill. When the instrument made it's final motion up his shaft and pulled from the bloated knobhead a thick line of fluid connected to him. The nurse gleefully rubbed it off with a pad of gauze. 

He was full now and in need of his release. His seed filled him to the point of discomfort and his eyes closed tightly, wincing at the ache. Clear fluid steadily dripped down the head of his shaft, leaving the tight skin shining with the viscous fluid. 

This time they worked together. Unable to look up at them, he only felt the two pairs of hands on him. The more expert of the two gripped him firmly around the base of his shaft in a tight clench. Her thumb and forefinger massaged the area firmly, pulling up and slowly squeezing down. It did nothing but aggravate his need further. 

The head of his shaft, which so desperately needed attention, felt another set of hands. One rested on his slickened tip while her smooth palm, twisting and circling swiftly, incited him so he could only grunt helplessly. Her other hand rested just below the rim of his heavy crown. This area, now throbbing and begging for stimulation, trembled as she slowly traced it. Her finger barely touched him, only gently brushing his member. His mind reeled. Please, his mind begged. His mouth moved in unison though his voice was silent. His chest rose quickly and fell as he took in great gulps of air. The semen in his sack, now primed to expend, caused a dull pain that forced him to ejaculate.

Still he could not. His release was dependent on the whims of his two tormentors. The women, both beautiful beyond belief, soft and feminine, held his agony in their hands. His mind reeled. Their beauty, his need, his helplessness all contributed to his state. His emotions flowed unbidden. He felt like crying, screaming, hurting, laughing. He was lost, each feeling entered him without reason and left just as soon, confusing him even further.

Still his penis burned. His testicles ached and the tight ring around his shaft increased the pressure in his cockhead where it was teased to a brilliant pleasure that now caused him pain. The palm gliding over his drenched tip now smoothed down to the cleft of his cockead to assist the burning in his rim. Tears welled at the corners of his eyes and he felt a leaden sadness at his position. 

At the moment of orgasm he felt a transformation to an unexpected bliss. Bursts of white flashed before his eyes as his body propelled to completion. His cock stiffened and shook spasmodically as bolts of thickened jism shot from the end of his organ. 

His body twisted and the firm muscles of his abdomen clenched. The nurses watched entranced as semen jumped from his penis. They caught it in a small plastic cup that almost filled to overflowing. Pleased with his produce, they sealed the specimen and labeled it. As his climax subsided he felt drained. His body felt heavy and his muscles grew slack. Were he not tied and bound he would have been unable to move regardless. As the nurses went about their business, he forget his nakedness, forgot his vulnerability, and peacefully slipped into a blank sleep. 

When he awoke it was much later. During his sleep he had been turned on his stomach. Beneath him was a firm cushion that bent his body so his feet rested on the floor. A pillow rested under his head and his arms lay comfortably by his side. The women seemed much kinder now and talked sweetly. The brunette rested her hands on his bare back and softly stroked him just above his ass. He was not aroused but felt a complete satisfaction, as if awakened after a day long sleep. 

He could not see the blonde nurse but felt her by his legs. The center of his ass, around his hole had been shaved smooth so he could feel her fingers as they stroked his back end. It felt suprisingly good but made him uncomfortable. He didn't resist it. She had coated him with a thick layer of lubrication, making sure that it filled the tight ring of his anus. 

His penis, soft and worn, rested beneath him. He was uncertain what she had planned and sure he could not provide any more sperm. 

"Pay attention," the blonde said to the brunette nurse. "This is a difficult technique but, if done right, can really produce a great result." The nurse left his side to get a better view of what she was doing. He imagined what they saw; his cheeks spread openly, his asshole on view to them. His face colored at the thought. Just then he felt a noticeable pressure on his anus that turned to sharp pain.

"It will hurt at first," she explained to the brunette. "The most difficult part is insertion. No male enjoys that."

True to her word, the pain worsened until he felt himself gritting his teeth. His body responded, tightening around her intention, forcing her to stop and soothe him. "It's ok, just take deep breaths," she advised. "Let me in. I'll go slowly."

He did as she said, inhaling deeply. When she was behind him he could see her looking at him kindly. Her blues eyes and pretty face helped him focus elsewhere. As their eyes held each other, he felt a deeper pressure in his ass. She had penetrated him with another implement, one that fit tightly in his back passage. 

He stretched out, exerting himself to ward off the pain and found that the discomfort had turned into a foreign feeling deep in him. It tickled him and made his cock, which he thought deflated and weakened, fill to an almost complete erection. The younger brunette took it in her hand and squeezed him happily. "He's not ready yet," the blonde said. "I need to prime him first."

Just as she said this, he felt a distinct surge of pleasure deep in him. It was inside his ass, in an area he never felt before. "Males have a biological need to come," she explained. "If they don't do it on their own, their body does it for them, expending his seed while asleep or at other, more inappropriate times. One technique that has proven sound for those males that want to avoid the complications of orgasm but relieve internal pressure is called prostate milking." The younger nurse listened intently. "The male prostate gland is located deep in the rectum. It adds to the volume and frequency of the ejaculate but it is very sensitive and women have found a way to use it to expel semen. If massaged and stroked it causes a highly pleasurable sensation in the male." While doing this, she demonstrated by pushing it in until it touched the area. The sound he gave off, a happy sigh, proved her words. 




Kidnapped and Milked



"I've heard about that," the brunette added. "I heard it feels wonderful for the male."

"It can. They each have different reactions. It's not out of the ordinary to see them become emotional. It leaves them helpless."

Her words made both of them curious and Eric, half listening and half trying to acclimate to the strange feeling in his bottom, wondered what would come of this technique. As the older nurse slowly inserted the instrument back and forth over his gland, the younger one held his cheeks apart, spreading him out so his hole was opened lewdly. 

It changed from a slight pleasure to a feeling of need he could not ignore. His penis was fully erected and what he felt in his bottom brought a hot wave of sensation in his shaft. He didn't feel as if he would come and his urges were dulled but he felt happily full and desperate to relieve the pressure inside of him. 

One hand cradled his testicles as if they were ripe fruit. He openly moaned at the touch and leaned back onto the prod so it rubbed against his prostate. The nurses, amazed at this unheard of reaction, watched as he pressed back and forth on the tool. The older nurse only held it steady, growing excited at the sight of his once shy asshole opening and taking in most of the tool. 

A cup was held under his penis while the younger brunette squeezed his length more eagerly. She winked at the blonde as she began a firm downward motion, one hand taking up when the other finished. There was no need for such action, his body would expel his seed without their encouragement but the smiles on their faces showed their enjoyment. He was being milked as a cow would be and though both women knew that wasn't the easiest way to harvest his semen, they couldn't resist. 

Eric felt what they were doing and didn't blame them. In truth, he felt like an animal. He was helpless, unable to move and wanted only to peak in a surge that would release the pent up fluids that were burned in his male sack. 

They came out in a rush. He felt no climax, no exerting peak he was so hoping for. Instead there was a blessed release that calmed his stressed body. He felt as if he was being drained. The first bolt came quickly, causing a twinge of pain as it forced itself out of his tired cockhead. It flowed out of him in a near constant stream, different than the previous two releases. He was glad for it, only because the pressure in his lower abdomen and genitals had disappeared to be replaced by a warm tightening and the satisfying feeling of being completely emptied. 

The two women, happy with their samples, were finished with the subject. There was the quick piercing of a syringe in the full meat of his left buttock and they exited. His vision turned cloudy and, as he rested his head to regain his strength he fell into deep unconsciousness. 

In the morning he awoke. He was fully dressed and his body cramped. He shivered in the cold air of the morning as he realized he spent the night on a park bench. Two blocks away was the bar he last remembered going to for a drink the night before. There was a heaviness in his balls as if he had spent the night in bed with a woman but he knew that to be impossible. 

Images filled his head; two beautiful nurses, a starched white bed, the glistening sheen of lubrication on his erect cock. He shrugged it off as alcohol derived dream, the kind you can never fully piece together but that stays with you for months in images and in déjà vus. He stretched his sore legs, patted down his disheveled clothes and made his way back to his apartment, wondering why the left cheek of his ass felt swollen. 



Kidnapped and Ponygirl Trained



Knock Knock Knock.

Sarah squirmed as she heard the knocking on her apartment door. She had assumed that the man she had been talking to for over 3 years on the net was just joking about being around the corner, but now she wasn't so sure. She scampered to slip on her bikini, and then she cracked open the door.

"Hello Sarah. Are you ready for your inspection?"

Sarah blushed as she let the man into her apartment. She closed and locked the door, already fidgeting with the nervous excitement in her body, as she realized she was about to begin a new life. She knew she had a look of controlled fear in her eyes, as she turned to the man, and watched him sit down in her comfy chair. She moved slowly, cautiously, as she kneeled down before him, not daring to risk making a wrong impression so soon after his arrival.

"I know you want to be my ponygirl, Pet. So why are you still dressed?"

Sarah squirmed and blushed, as she slowly stood up, and pulled the ties on her bikini, allowing it to fall away from her body. She was glad she had shaved that morning, her pussy swollen and smooth as she thought about what was happening to her. She kneeled back down, and gathered the top and bottom of her bikini up, and folded them neatly into a pile, before setting it aside.

"Ok pet, up on the chair here, and let me get a good look at you."

Sarah was forced to kneel on her chair, on her hands and knees resting on the arm rests. She felt her pussy moisten as she felt his fingers examining every inch of her body. She felt him checking her feet, her shins, her knees, her thighs. As his hands moved closer to her cunt, she squirmed slightly, as she shivered in anticipation. Sure enough, his fingers slipped into her pussy, fingering her walls as he examined her moisture. She moaned softly as he continued his inspection of her body. Her butt, belly, breasts, shoulders, upper and lower arms, fingers, and finally her head were all checked. He even opened her mouth, and checked her teeth.

Sarah remained kneeling there, unsure what was going to happen next for a time, as she heard the man rummaging in a bag he had brought with him. Suddenly, he was back at her head, with a ball gag in his hand. She opened her mouth, and felt him slide the ball into her mouth, behind her teeth, before buckling it tightly. He lifted her up, only to pull her across his thigh, pinning her legs with his other leg, and grabbing her wrists in his hand. She squirmed in her vulnerable position, but she was helpless to stop his hand from beginning to spank her upturned ass.

Sarah squirmed and squealed behind the gag as he spanked her mercilessly. Her ass felt like it was on fire, but beyond the pain, her mind was in another place. She could only imagine she was his naughty little girl, having her bottom spanked, and the thought sent her over the edge in her first orgasm. Still her bottom was spanked, and still she squirmed, completely at his mercy.

She felt him release her, unsure of how long she had been over his lap. He sent her scurrying into the corner of her living room, and had her put her hands up behind her head, interlocking her fingers. She wanted to squirm, to rub her sore ass, but when she fidgeted, she got a swat with her hairbrush. She stood there, staring at the corner, for what seemed like hours to her, but were in fact only 30 minutes. She heard her tormentor rummaging thru her closets and drawers, till he returned with a dildo and her pony tail plug.

Sarah was forced out of the corner, and onto her knees, her head on the cheerleading practice mat she had setup in her apartment. She felt the tail plug slip into her pussy, and her cunt juiced it up. She then felt it at her rear entrance, and she moaned as it was slid home, seating itself on her anal ring. Then she felt her dildo being shoved into her cunt, and turned on. Sarah quivered and bucked as she was worked over, forced to cum again and again for her tormentor. 

She felt him asking her all sorts of questions. She only could nod or shake her head. Every response seemed to bring pain or pleasure to her, and Sarah didn't really remember what was asked. All she knew was her pleasure was more than her pain. She had wanted to fake an orgasm, but she was worked over till her body gave out whole spasms, her moans loud and animalistic, and her pussy creamed itself with her excitement. 

As she came down from the orgasmic high, she found her owner sitting in her chair, watching her. He asked her some more questions, and she knew he was gauging her desire still. He had thrown it on hot and heavy, intentionally making her know what her place would be if he took her as she had asked. She continued to have the desire in her eyes, and the passion in her cunt that he had desired. 

Sarah was again forced to kneel on the arms of the chair, and remained like that for a while. She was told simply to remain in place. Not how long, or what would happen if she moved. So she knelt there, the stress in her muscles begging her to move, to stretch, but she held her pose. After she could no longer hold herself up, she felt a dildo enter her cunt, and she was worked over into another blinding orgasm.

"You have done well, pet. But if I take you now, you're going to loose all contact with your family, friends, and society. You're going to be kept in a barn, exposed to the elements, kept naked, and forced to serve anyone who pays me to use you. This isn't going to be a pleasure trip for you. You are going to work for your food, and for your stable. I am staying in the Holiday Inn by the highway, room 211. I will leave it to you, what you do from here."

Sarah heard the man leave her apartment, and thought for an hour. Then she packed a small bag, wrote a note and put it in an envelope, and closed her apartment door. She had put on her bikini, and drove to the hotel. She quivered as she thought of what was going to happen next, but she smiled, and got out of her car. She went up to the room, and knocked on the door.

She smiled as the man let her in, and as soon as the door was closed, she dropped to her knees, removed her bikini, and waited for orders. She heard her bag being emptied, and knew he was looking at the tack she had bought with her. She had seen the truck with the horse trailer out back, and she knew there was no going back after this. She felt the man behind her, and opened her mouth, accepting her bit and bridle without fuss. She felt him drape her harness over her body, lifting her breasts into the harness cups, and tightening the straps around her. She felt him bend her over, and moaned as her dildo and tail plugs were inserted, and the waist and crotch belts were tightened. She felt her feet lifted and slipped into the hoof boots, and then felt them being laced tightly. Her hands were then pulled behind her back, and held there.

"This is your last chance, pet. Nod your head if you accept me as your owner, and your life as Sarah ends, and your life as a pony begins. Shake your head, and we consider this done."

Sarah only paused a moment, before nodding her head. She felt the arm sleeve secured around her wrists, pinning her arms to the small of her back. This was it. She was at his mercy now, and her pussy quivered as she realized this. The last thing she saw was a blindfold being pulled over her head, and then her world was darkness. 

She heard the door open, and voices filled the room. It sounded like 3 men. Someone fumbled with her bit, and pulled it out, only to replace it with a cock. Sarah's head began bobbing on the cock in her mouth, licking and sucking on it, as the others began feeling her breasts, and pinching her nipples. Sarah felt the cock in her mouth swell, and then she was swallowing down the first load of cum for the night. The cocks changed, and Sarah continued her duties, sucking on the cocks as they were presented to her mouth for the rest of the night. She had serviced each one at least 2x, before the last one finished, and her bit was replaced. 

Sarah was still blindfolded as she was led down to the trailer, and felt her harness connected to 2 support straps. She was unable to lie down or sit, so she stood there, in her tack, as she listened to the gate being closed, and her things being tossed into the side compartment. She heard the rear ramp slam closed, and her body quivered in a full orgasm. She had managed to make her dream come true. She was on her way to her new life as a ponygirl.

The following week, Police were called to Sarah's apartment, after a note was found, explaining she was running away. Investigations were started, but the computers were gone, and DNA evidence was not to be found. Hotel records failed to show her arriving or departing, and city surveillance couldn't track her down. The police informed her parents of the futility of the search, and asked if they heard something, to call them.

Sarah meanwhile was secured in a barn in another city, well actually in the country, as she thought of the day's training. She had spent 8 hours on the walking machine, her ass being whipped if she failed to prance properly. Tonight, her mouth was going to be fucked by at least 2 cocks and a pussy, and the following day, the Lady was going to take her out for a cart ride, on the farm's trails. Sarah squirmed as she came again, thinking to herself how good it was to be a full time ponygirl.



Kidnapped and Raped



'If you don't like living with me you can just fuck off.' Mike walked up to me and shoved me towards the door. I stumbled and nearly fell but managed to stay upright. He pushed me again and I lost my footing, crashing to the floor. He stood over me, eyes wide with fury.

How had we even got here? We were happy a couple of months ago. Never said a cross word to each other. It all seemed perfect. Until we moved from a 3 bedroom house to a poky 1 bedroom flat. That's when all the rows started. Little things at first. Stupid things that shouldn't have made a difference, but did. Like why wasn't his dinner ready when he got in from work? It didn't matter how many times I pointed out that he was home from work earlier than I was, I should have always had his dinner ready. I quit my job in the end. He wasn't happy with me working anyway, with other men where he couldn't keep an eye on me. Silly little rows over who's turn it was to go shopping, get the paper, things like that. I took it at first, just let it all wash over me. But soon I got tired of it, and started to stand up for myself. That's when all the trouble began. He didn't like me standing up for myself.

And I suppose that's how we got there. Me cowering on the floor, once again as I steeled myself for another beating. I went inside my head to my 'safe space', where I could pretend nothing was wrong and everything was all ok. I waited for a while, then cautiously came back to the real world. He was crashed out on the sofa, staring at the telly. I stood up and walked over to him. He kicked out at me lazily, but I knew he couldn't be bothered properly. I looked down at him and perched myself on the arm of the settee.

'Why are we fighting all the time? There's no point. We were happy once. Why can't we get back to that again. Come on baby. I miss the old you. All you do is work, lie around and have a go at me.'

'Well if you weren't so fucking useless, I wouldn't have to have a go at you would I?' He didn't even look away from the telly. That pissed me off. Reaching down, I grabbed his face and turned it to face me. He stared at me for a minute, before grabbing my hair and yanking my head down close to his.

'Touch me again, and I'll kill you. Got it?' I fought to keep my balance, and lost, toppling on top of him. Quick as a flash, he twisted my arm and yanked it up behind me. I winced but stayed quiet. I knew better than to shout out. He pulled my arm tighter, shifting me round so I was lying in front of him. I lay still, keeping my breathing shallow so I didn't piss him off. He glanced up at the clock and shoved me off the sofa. I lay there for a minute before sorting myself out and sitting up.

'Shop's going to be shut soon.'

'Point being?'

He sighed. 'My point is, we need some stuff. So fuck off and get it before you get what you really deserve.'

Pulling my jacket on, I zipped it up, yanked my hat on and flounced out the door. Just as I slammed it shut, I realised I needed him with me. I wasn't going to walk through the subway bit on my own. I didn't even like doing it on my own, never mind this late at night. Well fuck him. I'd walk across the green, down by the road. Serve him right if I got run over. Maybe then he'd actually be nice to me. I sighed, pulled my hat down even further and set off. It was only a 10 minute walk to the shop (not including trying to cross the road), but I still got nervous. We lived on a rough estate and you never knew who was waiting round the corner to stab you. I gingerly made my way across the green, taking care to avoid anywhere that the mud puddles looked deep. It was all the boy racers fault, pulling donuts on it, chewing up the grass, turning it into a swamp. 

'Fucking twats, the lot of them. Wish they'd all just fuck off and die,' I muttered to myself about men in general. Coming down the other side of the green to the road, I stood at the side, shielding my eyes from the glare of the car headlights, waiting for a clear space to cross. I ignored a van pulling up- after all on the estate, you couldn't be too nosy. That's when bad things happened, when you knew something you weren't meant to. Best just to leave well alone. Only, I couldn't see the road properly now. I stepped out in front of the van to get a better view, just as the driver revved the engine and moved forwards. I jumped back, screaming abuse after him as he drove away.

'Fucking men. You're all cunts, the whole lot of you. Trying to fucking run me over! What the fuck are you playing at you twats!?'

The van squealed to a halt and started to reverse. I panicked. Darting forwards, I tried to find a gap in the traffic to dodge through. The van was still reversing towards me, speeding up. Shutting my eyes, standing there, clenching my fists, bracing myself for the impact, one clear thought came to me.

'I'm going to die. This is it, my life is over.'

The van slammed the anchors on and I heard the tyres squealing along with the sound of a back door being thrown open. I opened my eyes and saw 5 men standing there. I recognised one of them as being the barman in our local, another being his brother. The other 3, I didn't have a clue who they were. I sagged with relief and sat down on the kerb.

'Jon. You're a cunt. I should have known it would be you. What the fuck were you playing out, driving at me like that?'

He glared at me 'What the fuck were you doing standing in the middle of the road. I had right of way you stupid bitch.'

'You'd stopped. Totally. I thought I'd be okay to go. Live with it.' With that, I stood up and carried on watching the traffic, waiting for a gap. This was getting ridiculous. At this rate, I would never get to the shop! I was contemplating turning round, going home and telling Mike that they'd shut up early, when I felt hands round my waist. I turned round and saw Jon looming over me, pulling me to him.

'What the fuck are you doing? Let me go you twat!'

He pulled me closer and started dragging me towards the van. I struggled against him, kicking out. I swung my leg back to kick him again and someone grabbed it. I twisted round and saw Grant holding onto it tightly before reaching down to grab the other one. I lashed out and caught him in the face. Bringing his hand up to his lip, he pulled it away and saw blood. Leaning over me, he spat blood in my face. I turned my head to the side, coughing as some of it went down my throat. I looked at the cars driving past, wondering why none of them were stopping to help or phoning for the police at the very least. Until I remembered- the police never bothered coming to anyone on our estate, and you kept your nose out of other peoples business, no matter what was going on.

I kicked out even more, twisting and turning to get away, but it was no good, between the two of them, they quickly bundled me into the van, slamming the doors behind them as they climbed in. I lay on the floor, winded after being thrown in. as I got my breath back, I pulled myself up, taking in the surroundings. I was in a Transit van with 5 blokes, 2 of whom had completely lost their minds, and I had no heavy objects within easy reach to defend myself with. I felt around behind me, seeing if I'd missed anything, all the time keeping my eye on Jon and Grant. I suddenly felt something come round my neck from behind me. I grabbed it and squealed slightly as it dug into my flesh. I looked up to see one of the men from the front of the van looping more rope round my neck. As I fought to loosen it off he kept pulling tighter and tighter. My head span, my vision went blurry then black as I faded into darkness. 

I woke up some time later, and tried to sit up. I was lying on my side, my arms tied behind me, my legs tied at the ankles. I tried talking before realising that my mouth was filled with what felt like a ball gag- I could feel the buckle digging into my head. I rolled over to a wall, and using it as a support, I sat up, taking stock of where I was. It was a fairly large room, with a few odds and sods, nothing that really caught my attention as being useful though. Could hardly see in the semi-darkness though. The tiny little window hardly let in any light at all and it was getting dark outside. Off the weak light from the window, I was something glinting. Shuffling over on my ass, I went to inspect it. It wasn't anything I could identify, but it was sharp. Scooting around so my back was to it, I tried something I've only ever seen in movies- rubbing my bonds up and down it in the hope that they would get cut. Half an hour later, I had to accept that it only worked in the movies, not in real life. Either that or I was doing it wrong. I heard to door squeak open and froze, like a rabbit caught in headlights. Jon looked round the room, searching for me. He spotted me and grinned. Walking over to me he grabbed me by my hair and dragged me into the middle of the room. I skidded along, trying to ease the pressure on my head.

After pulling me into the middle of the room, he let go of my hair and laughed softly as my head bounced off the concrete. I lay on my side, staring at the wall, listening to him walk away. After a few minutes I squirmed around, trying to sit up again. I soon gave up and lay still. I could hear Jon talking in a low voice to the other men. Footsteps rang out over the concrete as at least 2 of them came over to me. I was dragged into a sitting position and the room was suddenly flooded with light. I squeezed my eyes shut against the glare. My head was yanked back and I could feel the cold steel of a knife blade at my throat. My nostrils flared frantically as I tried to breathe through my panic. Opening my eyes, I stared up at Jon who grinned at me.

'Now then bitch, I'm going to take your gag out. Scream if you want, we're totally soundproofed, but me and the boys don't like a lot of noise.' He traced the knife along my throat, drawing a small line of blood that he licked off 'Understand cunt?'

I nodded. Anything to get the gag out. He reached behind my head, unbuckled it and yanked it out. I swallowed a few times to get some moisture back into my mouth. It didn't work. 

'Water' I croaked out. Jon and the others laughed.

'Honey, you'll get plenty of wet stuff in your mouth before we're finished with you.'

I felt my stomach clench with fear and a cold, icy knot of dread settled over me. Dropping my head again, Jon rolled me onto my stomach before grabbing my legs and pulling me over to the rest of his mates. My belly started to tingle where my top had ridden up and my soft skin came into contact with the floor.

He dropped my legs, flipped my over, and they all stood over me, leering. I stared up helplessly and noticed a couple of them already had their cocks out. Fuck. This really was happening. It weren't some nightmare. Jon straddled my stomach and pulled his knife out once more. I had a feeling I was going to be seeing a lot more of it that night. I was right. Jon leant over me and started cutting my clothes. After ripping my top and bra off, he began hacking at my jeans.

'You can fuck off you cunt, these are my favourite pair'. I couldn't believe I'd just said that. Here I was, tied up, nearly naked, totally vulnerable and I was worried about my jeans? I know they say that fear does strange things to a person, but still.

My head snapped to the left as Jon backhanded me. Putting his head down to face me, he stared at me for just a second and spat in my face. I lay still after that. My jeans were cut off, along with the bonds that held together my wrists and ankles. My arms were grabbed and I was pulled to my feet. One of the lads held my arms behind my back while the rest all stared at me. 

Eventually Grant came over and started running his hands over me. I stared right through him. I was soon brought back to my senses as he forced 2 fingers inside me. With a start I realised I was getting wet. Grant smiled at me and I glared back at him. Bringing his hand up to my mouth, he brushed his fingers across my lips. I refused to open up. He laughed softly and pinched my nose. I struggled for about 20 seconds, then gave up and opened my mouth. Grant immediately rammed his fingers in, shoving my head back against the shoulder of the man who was holding my arms. He, in turn, nudged my head to one side and bit down hard on my neck. My eyes opened wide and I let out a muffled scream. Grant pushed his fingers back in me, keeping one hand securely in my mouth. I could feel him pushing more in me, stretching me. 2, then 3 fingers. He tried pushing a fourth in, but I was too tight. He kicked my legs further apart to try and gain more access. Groaning in frustration, he pulled both hands from me, ripped me away from the guy who was biting me on the neck and threw me on the floor.

I landed heavily and slid a few inches. I sat up, and started to stand but I weren't going nowhere. In a second Grant was on me, pushing me back down, 1 hand across my throat, the other fumbling with his cock as he found my hole and rammed himself into me. I tried to scream, beg for mercy, anything to get him out of me. His eyes were half shut and he had a grin on his face 'fuck she's so fucking tight, you gotta feel this.'

Jon laughed 'Mike said she used to be a hooker, feel like a whore to you mate?'. All he got was a series of groans as Grant fucked me harder and harder. I let out a squeak as he wrapped his hands round my throat and squeezed hard. I could feel my eyes rolling up into my head, and just as my world was turning black, he pushed himself deep in me, tearing me slightly, and came hard, filling me up. He released me and rolled off as I curled into a ball, coughing and trying to get my breath back. I lay there for a few minutes and listened to them talking and laughing.

'Nothing like a hooker, tight as fuck. You can easy see why Mike's with her, no doubt'. Grant was busy telling the others how I was. I tuned out. Of course I was still tight. Did exercises all the time. Still do now.

Coming to my senses, I realised they were all distracted. Slowly inching my way backwards, towards the door, I gradually stood up. Pausing for a second, I saw none of them were watching me, turned and ran for the door. Grabbing the handle, I yanked it- and nothing. I yanked it again, harder this time. Still nothing. By this point they'd noticed me. I felt one of them smack into me, pinning me against the door, knocking the wind out of me. I was spun round and slammed back against the door. As the cold metal touched my bare ass, I bucked forwards slightly. This one took that as an invitation and reached down to grab my cunt. I shifted from side to side to avoid him. Growling in frustration he drew his fist back and smacked me full no in the face. I felt my cheekbone give and screamed in pain. He threw me on the floor and shouted to Jon to chuck him the knife. Jon threw the knife and it clattered on the floor, barely missing me. The lad picked it up, forced me on my back and knelt over my chest, pinning my arms with his knees. He put the blade across my throat and pushed down with both hands, cutting into me, drawing blood. I still bear the scar now, nearly 3 years after it happened. 

Staring up into his manic eyes, feeling the blade slicing through my skin, I lost control of my emotions and burst into tears. Struggling to get free, flailing around, I could feel the knife going deeper but I was hysterical by this point. Jon rushed forward and dragged him off me

'What the fuck Pete? You wanna kill her? That's not our agreement. You either get in on it and fuck her or you can fuck off. What's it going to be?'

His eyes were bright and manic with lust 'Her ass is mine'.

I heard these words and pulled myself to my feet, 1 hand around the wound in my throat that was seeping blood. I'd never done anal willingly before, but at least the others were gentle to a certain degree. I knew this would be brutal. I launched myself at the door, grabbing the handle, trying to force it open again. It wouldn't budge. I saw the window and ran for it. I was a lot fitter in them days, could outrun anyone. Unfortunately, I was also a lot shorter and it didn't matter how much I jumped, I couldn't reach it. The lads watched for a while, then all of a sudden that maniac, Pete, as I now knew him, was on me, forcing me face down on the floor. I screamed as his hand pushed against my broken cheekbone- fuck that hurt while it was healing. I felt him push against it once more and blacked out from the pain.

When I came round it felt like hours had passed, although it must have only been a few minutes. Pete had rolled me on my back and was astride my chest once more. I felt his weight pressing on me and my eyes snapped open. I soon wished they'd hadn't because I was faced with his cock. Fuck, it was massive! Not so much the length, but the girth was huge! He got a fistful of my hair and pulled my head towards his dick.

'Now then bitch, I'm going to fuck your ass. Nothing you can do about it. But I'm going to give you the chance to make it easier on yourself. What do you say?'

'You watch too many gangster movies'. Fucking Hell, there we go again, fear was running my mouth once more. It was true though. He was talking like a wannabe gangster. A really crap one.

His eyes blazed with rage and he flipped me onto my stomach 'Fuck you, you cunt. If you're going to talk shit to me, you deserve everything you get.'

With that the parted my cheeks and shoved his cock deep in my ass. The shock literally rendered me speechless for a few seconds until the white hot agony flowed through me. I found my voice again and screamed. And screamed. And screamed again. Pete stayed still for a few minutes, adjusting to the feel. Then started slamming in and out of me hard. This wasn't sex, wasn't a shag or a fuck. This was rape, pure and simple. Their way of telling me I was theirs to use as they wanted. 

I carried on screaming as I fought to get away, I began to panic again, I could feel my blood dripping from my throat, pooling on the floor. Pete grabbed my hair and yanked my head sideways. He spat on me and started punching me, calling me everything he could think of. He paused for a moment and beckoned Grant over 'Sit in front of her, she can't scream if she's sucking your cock.' Grant dropped down in front of me and sat down. Pete smacked my face against the floor and I screamed again as my cheekbone connected with the hard concrete. I began to struggle again as Grant grabbed my hair and forced my head down towards his cock. I held my breath once more to avoid having to suck it- under normal circumstances I like giving head and I love being face fucked, but these were not normal circumstances- as I quickly exhaled, he forced his cock past my lips. I tensed up as I tried to breathe and Pete obviously enjoyed this as he started fucking me even harder than before. Grant wrapped his hands round the back of my head and pushed down hard as he forced his hips up. I gagged and tried to push myself away from him but he was too strong. I pushed against his thighs, trying to get some leverage. I let out a muffled scream as my arms were yanked behind me and my tits hit the floor. That I could deal with. Concrete rubbing my nipple piercing however, was pure agony. As I fell forwards my throat was impaled even more onto Grant. As my throat muscles spasmed in panic, Grant started fucking my face- hard. He was obviously enjoying the feeling as I panicked. I could feel myself going dizzy and everything took on a muffled and muted sound. All my senses were hyped up, but it was like everything had slowed down and I was acutely aware of everything going on around me. Grant slammed his hips up once more and started coming, forcing me to swallow every last drop, just as Pete emptied his balls into my ass. Then, mercifully, darkness swallowed me.




Kidnapped and Raped



It's a lovely summer day as you exit the mall. Walking to your car, you think about the wonderful purchases you made today. The only bad thing is you had to park so far away. Finally reaching your car, you open the trunk and are loading your packages in when you hear a rustling behind you. Just as you turn to see what it is, a cloth is harshly placed over your nose and mouth and an arm snakes across your waist and you find yourself pulled up against the body of your attacker. You struggle to escape but his grasp is too strong and you find yourself weakening with every breath you take of the chloroformed soaked cloth. The last thing you remember before passing out is the sound of your attacker whispering in your ear,

"That's it baby, go to sleep......"

After a period of time, you slowly awaken and struggle to open your eyes. Through a gray haze you notice your head is covered in a hood and you can't see where you are being taken. Trying to reach up and remove the hood, you realize your hands are bound behind you. Your attempts to speak only produce muffled whispers as the tape over your mouth prevents you from crying out. The soft sounds of music are playing on a radio and you feel a vibration under your body. Rolling onto your side you can hear the sounds of passing traffic and you realize you are in a moving vehicle. You are still very groggy from the chloroform and the vibrations from the car moving down the highway lull you back to sleep. 

The sound of a door slamming jars you to semi-consciousness. You can hear the sound of crunching gravel as he walks around the van. Sliding open the door, you hear him say,

"Well, here we are, lover...shall we get started?"

All you see is a gray shadow reach in and suddenly you feel his hands roughly grab your tits.

"Nice, very nice. We are going to have a great time, bitch."

Grabbing your blouse, he easily sweeps you up and throws you over his shoulder. As he carries you away, your head lolls against his back. You can hear the sound of brush being disturbed with every step and the smell of pine is strong. After being carried for ten minutes or so, he says,

"This should be far enough away from prying eyes."

Gently, he lowers you to the ground and you feel the soft grass and leaves against your body. When he removes the hood, you blink several times to adjust to the sudden brightness. Looking up, you can only make out the silhouette of your kidnapper as he stands over you with the setting sun behind him. Groggily, you try to scramble away, but with your hands bound behind you, he is upon you before you can move a few feet. You hear a "snick" sound and then feel the cold steel of a knife pressed against your cheek.

"Ahhh, ahhh, ahhh, none of that, slut. I don't want to hurt you, so just play nice, hmmm."

Grabbing your hair, he pulls you over unto your back. Ordering you not to move, he stands over you and slices off the top button of your blouse.

"Damn, bitch, I can't wait to have you."

'Slice'...another button is cut away.

"Shit, you've got one nice set of tits, whore." 

You realize your chest is heaving as your fear of what is happening overpowers all reason. Even though you know this animal plans to rape you, you feel your nipples hardening as your tits rub against your bra with every harsh gasp you take.

'Slice'...another button flies away.

"Damn, I am so hard for you right now. I'll bet the anticipation is getting to you too, eh baby?" 

'Slice'......the final button is severed from your blouse and it falls open, exposing your black lacy bra fully to your attacker. He licks his lips in anticipation of forcing you to do his bidding. Taking the knife, he takes the front of your bra and, placing the knife under the connecting strap, neatly cuts the cups apart. Your heaving breasts fall free and for a moment, you revel in the feeling of the admiration your kidnapper takes in them before your fear and shame overpower you again.

"Son of bitch, tramp. You are one fine piece of meat."

Leaning down, he takes one of your tits in his mouth, sucking and licking your nipple.

You scream as he violates your body, but a muffled cry is all the sound that escapes your taped mouth. 

"You like that, huh? I can feel your nipples getting hard, lover." 

Struggling to escape, you can only thrash about as he takes your other breast in his mouth, his wet tongue licking around your areola before sucking and biting the nipple. Tears of shame begin to course down your face as you realize that it's true; your nipples are growing hard at the touch of this stranger. You body continues to betray you as you feel a heat growing in your loins. 

Your rapist seems to sense this and thrusts his hand between your legs, squeezing your pussy hard through your jeans. Instinctively, you close your legs as he roughly feels you up. You arch your back in an attempt to push him off your tits, but his body weight is too much to overcome.

"That's it, cunt, fight. I love it when my prey fights back. I know you are getting hot."

Turning your head away, you surrender to his ravishment of your tits. He continues to lick, suck and bite each nipple until they are erect. His hand continues to roughly rub between your legs. Under your jeans, you can feel your pussy growing moist.

"Whore, I'm going to remove the tape now. You can scream if you want. We are so deep in these woods that no one will hear you. All it will do is piss me off."

As he removes the tape from your mouth, you utter,

"Why are you doing this......please stop...please let me go......I won't tell anyone."

"Lover, we've only just begun. When I saw you walk out of the mall, I knew I had to have you. The way your hips moved, the sway of your breasts, your hair swinging with each step. I knew you were waiting...hoping...for this to happen."

"No, no, that's not true...please let me go."

"Not yet, baby. I'll let you go when I'm good and ready and when my cock is bone dry."

Standing again, he begins to slowly unbutton his shirt. You can't help but admire his hairy chest as he peels his shirt off. Unbuckling his belt, and unbuttoning his jeans, he slowly slides his pants and underwear off. Your eyes drop to his hard cock, the veins in his blood engorged dick evident in the fading light. Taking his dick in his hand, he begins to stroke his massive member.

"Do you like what you see, cunt? You know you want it. I can see it in your eyes. You need me to fuck you hard, don't you?"

"No......no......"

"Lying slut. Let me show you how much you need this."

Grabbing you by the hair, he drags you up against a nearby tree and props you up in a sitting position against it. Moving in, he takes his cock and brings it closer and closer to your face.

"Suck my dick, whore. I want to feel those soft lips make love to my cock."

"NO......GOD, NO......SOMEBODY, PLEASE HELP ME..."

Leaning in, he whispers in your ear,

"I told you no one would hear you out here. Save your energy for later, you're going to need it. Now, damn it, suck my dick."

Pushing his cock against your face, you close your mouth and thrash your face back and forth in an attempt to stop what is happening. The knife is suddenly against your throat and he says,

"Quit making this so hard, bitch. I told you I don't want to hurt you. I am going to fuck you and you are going to love it. Now, suck my cock. I won't ask again."

With tears of shame running down your face, you close your eyes and open your mouth. You smell his musky scent just before he shoves the tip of his cock past your lips. His hard cock fills your mouth and you gag as you taste his precum on the back of your throat. Grabbing your head, he begins to slide his swollen dick in and out of your mouth. 

"Oh yeah, baby, that's what I'm talking about. Suck it, bitch. Damn, that feels good."

Opening your eyes, you look up to see his head rolled back in ecstasy. You feel the heat in your pussy growing as your lips continue to caress his cock as it slides deep in your mouth. The disgust you felt at having a strangers cock forced upon you is being replaced by a feeling of lust. It has been a long time since you've tasted a mans cock and with each thrust, you find your hunger for sex growing. Before you can stop it, a small moan escapes your lips. 

"Yeah, whore. I knew you'd love it. How long has it been since you've been with a real man?"

With each stroke plunging deep in your mouth, you feel the tickle of his pubic hairs against your face. Holding your hair tightly, he pushes your head up against the tree and using his hips, increases his thrusts. You try to break free as he fucks your face, your head banging against the tree as he holds your face immobile. His cock is pulsing with lust.

"Damn, bitch, you know how to blow a mean dick. I'm going to cum so hard in your pretty little mouth. Fuck...yes...damn...milk my cock......shit......now...NOW."

With a roar, he explodes deep in your mouth. Holding your head tight, you can do nothing but let him pump his semen into your mouth. Pulling out, he continues to spew his load unto your face. With your eyes closed, you can feel his warm jizz running down your face. Spent, he runs his dick over your cheek, cleaning the last of his cum on your face. Heaving, you can taste his salty seed as you spit out what cum you can unto the ground.

"Oh, fuck me, bitch. That was a great blowjob."

As you continue to spit his cum out of your mouth, he takes his knife and slices up the remnants of your blouse and bra puling them off your body. Pushing you down again, he begins to undo your jeans. Kicking wildly, you try to force him away. Laughing, he continues by unzipping your jeans and slides them over your thighs, past your ass and over your legs. Laying in the brush, all you have are your black panties covering your moist pussy.

"Please......no more. I did what you wanted......let me go now."

"Shit, cunt, we haven't even started yet. I need to get hard again so I can fuck the shit out of you."

Smiling wolfishly, he grabs your panties and quickly pulls them down your shapely legs.

Taking them to his face, he breathes in deeply.

"Mmmmm, that's the smell of one horny slut."

Picking the knife up from the ground, he says,

"I'm going to cut your hands free now. If you try to get away, I will hurt you."

Rolling you over on your side, he deftly slices the ropes binding your wrists together. You flex them as the blood returns to your hands.

"What...what are you going to do now?"

"I told you, I need to get hard again. Come here."

Roughly grabbing you by the hair, he drags you back to the same tree from which he savagely fucked your face. Sitting down with his back to the tree, he spreads his legs and pulls you between them. Pulling you back, he leans you against him. Sitting against his chest, you can feel the sweaty hairs of his chest against your back. Taking your hand, he places it over his semi flaccid dick.

"Stroke me, bitch. I want to get hard so I can fuck your sweet pussy."

As you begin to lightly stroke his cock, you van feel him growing harder. Moaning, he reaches in and cups your breasts in his hands, pinching the nipples until you cry out.

"Don't stop, slut. Can you feel me growing in your hand? Soon, bitch, soon."

Taking your face in his hands, he leans in and kisses you. You feel his tongue push past your lips and force its way into your mouth. You try to pull back, but he grabs your head and pulls you back. While kissing you, you feel his other hand running down your belly.

"Lets see if I can get you good and wet, lover."

As he breaks away from the kiss, you gasp as he takes his fingers and begins to caress your pussy lips.

"No......please no......no more......I..."

He doesn't answer but begins to stroke your pussy faster. His fingers begin to probe deeper and you know you are becoming wet. Whispering in your ear, he says,

"See, you know you want it. Don't fight it any longer...go with it."

As he continues to finger you, you don't realize that you are stroking his cock harder until he says,

"I think you're wet enough, whore. I'm definitely hard again. Get on your knees."

"Please...don't rape me."

"On your knees, cunt...NOW."

Rolling over unto your knees, you feel him take position behind you. As you stare off into the woods, you feel his fingers probe into your open slit, rubbing your pussy lips, stroking your clit.

"Ohhhhh," you moan as you feel a charge of electricity running from your core. 

You feel the tip of his cock searching for your slit and, finding it, both of you moan simultaneously as he slides his hard cock deep into your twat. You wait for his thrusts to begin, but his dick remains motionless in your pussy. Leaning in, he cups one of your tits and whispers in your ear,

"What's your name, whore?"

"No......please..."

The smack of his hand on your bare ass is more startling than painful and he again asks,

"I said, what's your name?"

Haltingly, you tell him your name. 

'Smack'. The sound of his striking your ass cheek again reverberates in the woods.

"WRONG, its 'slut'. You are a filthy slut and you need to be fucked like one. Now, what's your name?" 

"Oh......please......

'SMACK......SMACK......SMACK'......the sting from his whipping your ass is both painful and exciting.

"Once more, what's your name?"

"S...Slut"

"That's right. And what do slut's like most?"

"To...be fucked...hard"

"Right again...so let me do just that."

Grasping your hips, he begins to slide his cock in and out of your wet twat. You can feel his hardness driving deep into your womanhood. You have wanted a man's cock for so long, but not like this...not like this. But, you feel your body reacting to the brutal fucking. His cock rubs against your clit and you feel his balls slap your pelvis with every thrust. As you feel your orgasm approaching, you don't notice he is continuing to spank your ass with every thrust. Your tits sway as he continues to pound your twat and you move your ass backwards in an attempt to feel all of him inside you. When your orgasm hits, you roll your head back and scream out in a primal urge of lust. You continue to cry out as wave after wave of pent up lust is released in one fell swoop of passion.

"I knew you were a filthy slut the moment I saw you. Now it's my turn to cum."

Exhausted, you can't resist as he rolls you unto your back. He easily spreads your legs and moves in between them. You can just make out his form in the fading light of the day. Lowering himself unto you, his cock easily slides into your moist snatch. Your arms lay meekly at your sides and as he leans in, he pins them down by holding them at the wrist. With his full body weight resting on your arms, you are powerless to move. With a ferocity you couldn't imagine, he continues to fuck you mercilessly. With each thrust, you feel his cock stretch your pussy. You turn your head so he won't see the look of desire in your eyes as you will the fucking to continue. In between his grunts of pleasure, he continues to whisper in your ear, calling you slut...whore...and you know he is right. Unconsciously, you wrap your legs around his ass to pull him deeper into you, to feel his throbbing cock deep in you. 

As you orgasm again, you can't control your gasps and cries of pleasure. This only serves to spur him into increasing the rhythm of his thrusts. The sounds of the forest at night mingle with the liquid sounds of your sex. As you experience orgasm after orgasm, you hear your voice begging him to fuck you, your immobilized hands claw at the grass and dirt as your passion spills over...just as your cum spills unto the ground.

Then, an animal cry sounds out in the night and you know he has cum inside you. His semen is like liquid fire as he pumps his seed in you. The feeling that his cum is in you triggers one final orgasm. Spent, he finally rolls off you.

"Oh, fuck, bitch......you drained me dry, slut."

As he begins to dress, you roll unto your side, torn between the horror of what has just happened combining with the pleasure you feel. Finished, he picks up your panties and puts them in his pocket.

"I think I'll just keep these as a trophy of my conquest. The road is about a mile that way. Maybe if you put out, you can get a ride from someone, hahaha. Thanks for the great time, lover." 

As the sound of his footsteps recede in the darkness, you trembling hands search for your clothing and you wonder if your shaky legs can make it to the road. Sitting on the ground, you take your face in your hands and begin to cry tears of shame......or contentment? 



Kidnapped and Raped



I awoke with a start. I ached all over and had a raging headache. My mouth was dry but sticky and I had a lingering taste at the back of my throat. Then it all came back to me and I burst into tears again. Through my choking sobs I realised a few things. I was now on a bed. Chained to it to be more precise but anything was better than concrete. And I had my collar on. 

Let me explain about my collar. I love my collar. It's black leather with rounded silver studs on it. I bought it from a Goth stall at a county fair when I was 14 and since that day it's gone everywhere with me. Kinda like a security thing. I always had it on me, either wearing it, or having it in my pocket. God knows why but I loved it. Now I was starting to regret buying the damn thing. 

Bit late for regrets though.

I looked around the room, trying to get my bearings. I calmed down a bit when I realised I recognised it. Couldn't place it, but I recognised it and that soothed me some. Testing my bonds I realised I could get out of them without too much fuss. Handy being a mini-Houdini sometimes! After fiddling around for a few minutes and trapping my skin a lot, I wriggled free. Sitting up I pulled the leg restraints off and stood up. I felt a bit wobbly and nearly gagged when I felt the congealed blood round my throat. I fought the urge to throw up and moved towards the door. Twisting the handle I was surprised to find it was unlocked- they obviously didn't think I would be capable of getting loose. Mike should have warned them better than that. Even so, after finding the door opened so easily, I should have been on my guard but I got lax. I moved quickly down the corridor. I knew this place from somewhere but I didn't know where. That was my big mistake. I wasn't concentrating. All of a sudden I was pinned against the wall and found myself staring up at my boyfriend, Mike. Now I knew where I was. This was his mate Joey's house!

'Enjoy your little trip bitch?' He grabbed my hair and threw me on the floor. My cheekbone hit the ground and I fought the urge to scream. I knew that would only make him worse. I curled up into a ball as he started kicking me, humming as he did. I felt red hot waves of pain shoot through me as his boot broke 2 of my ribs. I bit my lip to stay silent. He rolled me on my back and put a foot across my throat, choking me, pushing on my wound. I struggled beneath him, but still did not make a sound. Dropping down on top of me, he sighed and lit a fag. I flinched as he flicked ash onto me. Leaning back, he rested his full weight on my stomach.

'Don't'.

'Don't what?'

'I'm serious Mike, don't lean on my stomach, please'.

'Why the fuck not? Don't tell me what to do you whore'.

'I'm pregnant'. He took a long drag on his cig.

'You fucking what?'

'I'm 3 months gone. I did a test last week, and it came up positive. I had a doctors appointment last week and he sent me for a dating scan. I'm 3 months gone. We're having a baby Mike. I was waiting for the right time to tell you'.

He slowly sat up. I though I had him there. I knew how much he wanted kids. All of a sudden I felt a searing pain on my right breast and my head exploded in a cloud of pain. He'd burnt me with his cigarette and booted me in the head. I could taste blood where I'd bit my lip and tongue. He grabbed me by my collar, dragging me up and throwing me against the wall again. 'You was waiting for the right time to tell me? When exactly was going to be the right time? Not that it matters, I'm not having a kid with a whore.'

I heard a click and felt the cold metal of a gun barrel pressed against my belly. Threaten me and hurt me, fine. Do it to my baby, my unborn baby and you'll pay. I saw red and snapped.

'The only reason I'm a whore is because you made me into one Mike. You was the one that was pimping me out to all your mates! You were the one that wanted the fucking money, not me. Now get out of my way you tosser!' I screamed at him and slapped him. Ignoring the pain coursing through my whole body I shoved him as hard as I could and ran. Anywhere just to get away from him. Running down the stairs, I pulled the front door handle- shit. Locked. I sprinted through the living room door to get to the patio door when I felt my collar being pulled back. I let out a strangled yelp, felt a hand go round my mouth and Joey whispering in my ear

'My turn'.

I froze on the spot. He pulled me tight against him and I could feel his hard on. He started licking and kissing my neck. I winced as his lips brushed over my torn and bruised skin. All of a sudden, I found myself stumbling forwards to the middle of the room, falling over a coffee table and gashing my leg. Feeling dazed, I rolled over and lay there stunned for a few minutes. I sat up and saw Joey come flying towards me. He smacked me in the face, but by this point I was in too much shock to scream or care. I saw Mike come into the room and he stood over me smirking.

I looked up at him, too broken and too much in pain to even care what he did. He crouched down by my head and I flinched as he stroked my hair.

'Aww baby. You're a mess. But you bring it on yourself. If you just did as you were told, you'd be ok'. With that he stood up and walked away. Without a backward glance he told Joey 'Do what you like. I don't give a shit.'

Joey smiled at me and I felt his hands round my throat. That was the last thing I remember. 



Kidnapped & Taken Ch. 01



I rubbed my cock through my slacks on the drive home. I had the bitch safely tied and gagged in the trunk and was enjoying the dark night, the anticipation, the pleasant feeling coursing through my cock as I alternately squeezed and stroked it through my slacks. I was going to have some fun with this one.

She was long-legged with raven hair, very fuckable – yep; I was going to have some fun. Who knows, depending on her sensibilities, she might have some fun too.

I pulled into my garage, being sure to let the overhead door shut all the way before opening the trunk. The look of fear that greeted me over her taped mouth was gratifying – we were nicely on our way. I untied her hands from her legs (she was currently in that most useful of ties – a hogtie, effective and humiliating at the same time) and muscled her out of the trunk. She still hadn't seen my face – I'd put my ski mask back on.

I pigeon-walked her to the house, leaving her hands secured behind her back and her feet separated by only a couple of linked double snap hooks. I also put a black hood over her head, not enough to interfere with her breathing (hopefully she didn't have a cold), but enough to obscure her eyesight. So, tied, afraid, in the dark – she was escorted into my lair.

There was no point in wasting any time. I pulled out my pocketknife and divested her of all of her clothes. The whimpering through the tape just served to make me stiffer and more determined to take as much fun from this as possible. After all, there was a significant chance (1 in 5? 1 in 4?) that I'd be going to jail – might as well make it worth my while.

She was now naked, except for some of the rope and metal jewelry I'd given her, her gag and her hood. I tied her arms securely around the load-bearing post in my hallway. It ran from the floor to the ceiling and supported the second story of my house at the front of the stairway. I took a moment to enjoy viewing her creamy white skin, her long legs and the curve of her breasts against her ribs. Her nipples were hard – maybe from their naked exposure to the air of my house, maybe from some secret excitement, more probably from fear. She had a nice ass. She hugged the post in fear – I could still hear her mumbled pleas for something (I assume mercy) through the tape on her mouth.

I unhooked my belt, slid it from my pants and began her introduction to my favorite kind of pain – sexual pain delivered by me. I concentrated first on her ass, moving from there both down to her thighs and up to her back. Her loosely tied wrists (around the post) allowed her some freedom of movement, but her closely-secured legs kept her basically in place and helpless. I enjoyed her thrashing around as she became intimately familiar with her situation. I took time out to rub my cock as often as I wanted since she wasn't going anywhere. It was going to feel good to have something other than my hand on it soon.

The red stripes that began to show up and down her body were very pleasing to my eye. The cries of pain, rage and despair were also pretty arousing as well! The mark of a belt always shows very nicely on a woman's flesh. With a hand, there's sort of an all-over redness. With a belt, it's much easier to see where you've kissed a whore's flesh with leather. A belt was also more suitable for this occasion, more impersonal, more in keeping with our rapist/rapee relationship. A spanking, especially at first, would be too intimate, signal more emotional involvement to "Raven" than actually existed between us. She was a bitch, getting strapped for no particular reason, in preparation for getting fucked. It was a simple concept, though I doubt she recognized the full implications.

I hadn't spoken to her yet, either during my snatching her from her home or during this first strapping. I know I was being a jerk. She must have been terribly confused, not being able to make the stock offer to "fuck her, just don't hurt her"...or "she wouldn't turn me in if I let her go now". We needed to get past all that. I wanted to reinforce to her as quickly as possible that she didn't have any say, at the moment. She was just a woman and I was a man taking my pleasure.

When she slumped against the post, hugging it tight, ten minutes later, I knew she'd had enough. It was easy to turn her around. She was exhausted. This time I tied her hands up and above her head (again behind the post). This lifted her tits nicely – they were begging for attention. Too bad I couldn't see her face (the hood and all). In addition to having a tight body, I knew that she was nice looking as well. I smiled quietly as I heard her muffled sobs begin again with the first strike of my belt across her rib cage, just below the swelling rise of her tits.

The red marks of the belt were more vivid here, if just because they were being placed on parts of her anatomy much more tender than her backside.

As I proceeded to redden her tits, tummy and thighs I continued to gently rub my own prick, keeping it hard, keeping it ready.

Of course, strapping a bitch (any bitch) across her tits and her tummy is much more personal, much more forward, than a traditional strapping. The quick sobs of pain, the abused and reddened nipples, the heightened fear that comes from this non-traditional area of the body creates a much more personal connection with a cunt than the more traditional ass or back strapping.

I took several opportunities to run my hands over her beautiful cream-and-red flesh, tweaking her nipples often, giving her a small break from the leather, while I manhandled her to my heart's desire. I put a couple of clothespins on her nipples and had fun striking them off with the belt, re-attaching them, striking them off again. It was a fun game for me. It kept her nipples hard, it kept the moans coming from her taped mouth and it kept my cock hard. A tri-fecta of accomplishment, I thought.

Periodic checks of her 'secret garden' revealed progress as well! At first, she was dry as a bone, but over time the ever-greater moisture on my fingers was an unmistakable sign, whatever her protests, that she was into this at some level. I was familiar with how a female could be trained to get wet just from a belt-spanking. It looked like this one could be good material for making a full-time sexual wench (though personally, I liked variety).

After another ten minutes of this attention from my belt, I asked if she was ready to suck some cock. She nodded so vigorously that I'm sure, if I'd allowed her speech, she'd actually be begging me (or some close approximation thereof). Evidently, I'd gotten my point across. She didn't have the strength to struggle at all as I untied her hands from the post before securing them again behind her back. She also made not a peep of resistance as I led her across the room and put her on her knees in front of me while I sat down on the couch.

I removed her hood, but tied a long scarf tightly over her eyes before removing my own ski mask. This left most of her face uncovered as well as her long hair. Her whole body was bathed in sweat from her ordeal. She looked lovely – helpless, hurting, silent, wet – the perfect woman. I pulled the tape off of her mouth, giving her the first chance to speak.

"Please let me go..." she whimpered, the inevitable request.

"Would you like to be tied again to the post?" I enquired smoothly.

She sobbed in fear, but said no more as I unzipped my fly and guided her down onto my cock. I got no further protests from her. Evidently she decided that her current situation was preferable to her prior situation. Besides, her body had betrayed her anyway. She was wet and I hadn't even shown any tenderness to this point (other than withholding my strength in my belt strokes). I took her request to "let me go" for what I knew it was – a way for her to maintain a little bit of dignity and deniability afterwards when she'd have to deal with the fact that getting raped was the best sex she'd ever had.

Her warm mouth felt really, really, really good!

I never worry that much about a woman biting my cock off in this situation, although the possibility is always there. I figure that women are made to suck cock anyway – biting probably doesn't occur to them as a first option – it's probably instinctual to suck rather than bite – a survival trait you know (past female biters wouldn't long survive to have female offspring to continue their biting ways). I also always rely on my 'foreplay' techniques to convince them to be 'good girls' when given the chance to experience something pleasurable (like sucking cock) as opposed to something not so pleasurable (like being whipped). Regardless, I'd made the right calculation here as well...she sucked with gusto and fervor – I was satisfied.

She was a beautiful sight in front of me. She was on her knees and her hands were behind her back. Her legs were still secured by just the two short lengths of a couple of double snap hooks. I probably could have had her in a kneeling hogtie, but this would have made her balance a little bit unpredictable and I favored enjoyment for myself, at the moment, over humiliation for her. She was naked. I'd left the clothespins on for this blowjob. I knew her nipples would get numb soon and she'd not feel much pain anymore and they were such a nice piece of additional jewelry for my own visual enjoyment.

Of course, they'd hurt like hell when they eventually came off as blood came back into the oxygen-starved nubbins of flesh, but that was more of a concern for her than for me.

Her skin, as she continued to suck my cock, was a beautiful combination of red and cream stripes, with little dark 'pin-prick' looking spots everywhere – those were probably areas that I'd visited more than once. I'd strapped her pretty thoroughly but even a man with all the time in the world can't visit every square inch of skin in a mere half-hour. In short, she was more beautiful now than when I'd first lain eyes on her – and she had my cock in her mouth to boot! Who said heaven wasn't attainable right here on Earth?

I gave her a few moments to 'get acquainted' before taking a more active role in my blowjob. I loved a woman's mouth on my cock – almost any woman's – it usually felt pretty much the same. Whether they were blondes, brunettes or redheads, I was an equal opportunity enjoyer of the female mouth. She was making a great effort to get me off. She took direction well from me. She was very responsive, just like a highly trained dog, to a hand in her hair, on her shoulder or on the back of head. In short, she was expert at playing the tube-flute with an experienced conductor like myself. This was to her credit, I thought.

Of course, I was enjoying another benefit of our rigorous foreplay (the belting). Women became very eager to please, very mindful of technique, very enthusiastic (most of the time) after such an experience. I'm sure she felt that the more enjoyment I got, the easier it would be for her in the long run.

Of course, she was right, but only on a comparative basis. Rape was, after all, rape.

The feeling of sliding into a woman's mouth is almost indescribable. I know it and can imagine it, but it's hard to put into words. It's a visual thing, a sensory thing, (maybe a vibration thing). The most unique aspect is when I slide my cock past that certain 'point'. I hit that spot where I begin to activate the bitch's gag reflex, where I begin to feel her mouth and throat start to tremor, to convulse – it provides an immensely satisfying feeling – before that point, it's one kind of blow job. After that point, it's a completely different kind of blowjob. If I discussed this with other men, they'd know what I was talking about. I can only feel it in my cock, nowhere else, the pressure of her mouth around the head of my cock increases immensely.

The depth of penetration required to get this gag reflex is different for different whores. Of course, sometimes that's as far as some bitches ever go down on a man's cock. They won't go past it. Some have trained themselves to go farther. Some are taken farther by the right man – whether he be a boyfriend that she really likes, a husband that she still likes or a rapist that demands that 'little something extra' in the cock-sucking department.

Of course, all bitches know where their gag reflex begins and, when sucking cock, many of them never even go down THAT far, much less beyond it. They spend all their time above that crucially important point in their mouth, that point where THEIR gag reflex begins. Those are the worst girls. They just don't know how pleasurable it is for a man to feel that convulsion of her mouth around his prick, that immense tightening, that reaction from her throat when he reaches her gag reflex. Those are the girls who need at least one man, at some point in their life, to demand better of them.

Of course, being in charge of this current situation, I was able to take Raven (that's how I thought of her since I didn't know her real name) to and beyond her gag reflex as often as I wanted...and I did! It was farther toward the front of her mouth than many girls. She had an extremely responsive gag reflex and I used it well to bring pleasure to my stiff cock.

I also took several opportunities to shove her shoulder-first into the carpet, with her ass in the air, spearing her from behind before moving her back into her previous oral devotion. I was gratified that the first time I fucked her she was well-lubricated. I slid in with ease. As I fucked Raven during these brief interludes, I could tell from her body language that she was having a great time. Her hips met mine on each powerful thrust. I felt small tremors underneath me that signaled (as only body language can) pleasure and maybe even some orgasms.

There are very few female problems, after all, that can't be solved with a nice, thick dick. Of course, I didn't enquire directly to her...that wouldn't have been in keeping with our rapist-rapee relationship. I didn't want to ruin the experience for her!

She was right not to protest as I transferred my dick several times from her cunt to her mouth over the next half hour. Over time, like all cunts, her true nature was revealed. Her moans of hurt and disapproval eventually turned, slowly but surely, inevitably, into moans of a different sort. There is no shame in that – she's only a woman, after all. Just as there are few problems that can't be solved by a dick, there are few woman that can't be brought to see the light by a worthy male, to enjoy their natural femininity, the way they're built by nature to be invaded and conquered and how men who are willing to invade and conquer are more worthy than those who aren't.

Near the end, her passion and enjoyment became crystal clear. Brief snatches of "Yes! Yes!" and "Oh my G*d! Oh my fucking G*d" escaped in murmurs loud enough to reach my ears – sweet music!

I often ponder whether I enjoy fucking a woman more or less than I enjoy getting my cock sucked. I used to spend hours contemplating this puzzle, to no avail.

I've come to the realization though, over the years, that there is no need to ponder that question too much. When there's no discernable reason not to get both as much as you want, what does it matter? Although the feel of a woman's mouth sliding up and down your cock is so personal, so intimate, so docile, and so great – the feel of your cock sliding in and out of a woman's cunt (or her ass) is so primal, so right, and so natural.

There really is no comparison between the two feelings. They're both equally right; they're both equally essential to a fully balanced enjoyment of the typical whore. Granted, some bitches are much more talented with their mouths (or have pussies that are just a bit too loose to enjoy fully), but then there are other bitches who have such a tight cunt that it feels like an E-ticket ride every time you slam it home inside them. The great thing is, even if some individual whore's cunt is not quite tight enough to live up to my expectations, her ass always solves that problem.

This one's cunt was tight. I almost couldn't bear the thought of pulling out and putting it back into her now-eager mouth. The only thing that let me pull out was the knowledge that I could put it back in her cunt often and at any time I wanted (or at least until I busted my nut). So I continued to happily fuck my raven-haired beauty's cunt and mouth with whatever cooperation she was willing to give.

I could tell, now, that she didn't want me to take it out of her cunt either. There were moans of disappointment, a reluctance to recommence her oral service, the beginnings of a verbal protest (if an effective protest can be made while you're blindfolded with your hands tied behind your back). These little hesitations I quickly suppressed with a strong right hand, liberally applied to cheek, ass and breast. She accepted my not-so-gentle rebukes with grace and wrapped her mouth around my cock again, resigning herself that she'd have my cock in her cunt when and how I wanted it, not when and how she wanted it.

I could feel the stirrings of an orgasm deep down in my balls. Now we were getting somewhere. It probably had to do with that little bit of resistance that I so efficiently snuffed out. I delayed my build-up momentarily by stuffing her brutally down the length of my cock. It always feels great to gag a girl with dick, feel her struggling for air... and the lack of friction up and down my pole served to temporarily stop the ignition sequence for my final blastoff.

But I had to face facts. I was near the beginning of the end. It was simply a matter of time and motion now, until her efforts would drain my sac, at least temporarily.

So I had to decide where to deposit my precious jism. Would it be down her throat? That was always a favorite of mine. How about in her cunt? Too conventional for me – this bitch probably experienced that honor too many times from other gents (whether they were as forceful as me or not). I dismissed the idea of spraying on her face or tits – that just wasn't my style – a senseless waste of cum, it never makes a lasting impression, physical or psychological – and it was messy to boot.

That left her ass as the only viable alternative to her stomach. I hadn't yet plumbed those depths and sometimes, I know, a woman never feels truly 'taken' until she's taken in that last hole. Just to make sure she knew the score, I'd have to slide my cock in there for at least a token amount of time before we finished here tonight.

I decided to defer a final decision on where she'd have the honor of receiving my seminal fluid in favor of the more immediate task at hand – and I had to get a move-on as even somebody who jerked off as much as I did (endurance training, you know – I can get women whenever I want and I DON'T have to KIDNAP them – I'm not a geek really) couldn't extend this party too much longer. I entered her cunt again, but also began to use her now-copious juices to 'prepare' her third corridor for my larger-than-average cock. As I worked my first finger into her tiny brown hole, I noticed a definite stiffening of her body underneath my pistoning prick. She momentarily broke her own rhythm, her doggy-style rocking and uttered her second complete sentence of the evening.

"Please don't fuck me there," she pleaded, music to my ears (the pleading, not the actual words).

"I tell you what, the next protest I hear from you and I'll get my broom. You can have my cock, or a 48" broom handle – it's up to you," I replied. "Personally, I think it's better for both of us if you just keep quiet."

This threat, real or not, had its intended effect. She protested no further as I worked a second finger, slimy with vaginal cream, down into her asshole, preparing the way for my larger and thicker one-eyed snake. I was gratified as she redoubled her efforts at meeting my thrusts into her cunt, shuddering in what was probably an involuntary orgasm once again – hoping against hope that I'd find my release sooner rather than later.




Kidnapped & Taken Ch. 01



It was not to be, however. I had some stamina left (even though she was one of the hottest bitches I'd ever had the pleasure of fucking). I transferred my cock, with some difficulty, but with ultimate success, from a tight cunt to an even tighter ass. The initial invasion, while always tricky, is the most satisfying part of the experience. Although it is generally similar, each bitch is unique as her ass is conquered – the noises, the moans, an estimate of the amount of pain you're causing, whether it's a turn-on for her or a turn-off, the twitch of her hips underneath you, the degree of tightness, the rapidity of the breathing. Each of these elements, combined in their whole, adds up to a uniquely gratifying experience for the male (or at least for your humble author) as the initial thrust is attempted and completed. The variation of female response to this invasion is always different – a true pleasure for connoisseurs of unwilling female flesh such as me.

As I slid home into her backdoor, I was pleasantly rewarded. She grunted in pain, I heard a few "No's" and "Please's" that I graciously overlooked. Her entire body was bathed in sweat from our mutual efforts. I think it was painful for her, but I like to think there was some level of enjoyment as well (after all, I didn't want to think of myself as a total monster). I put a hand on each hip as I slid the last few inches inside, after getting my cock past the tight rings of muscle protecting her from most forms of outside invasion. Since I was holding her hips tightly, she did not take any initiative in beginning a rhythm – I daresay she appreciated a few seconds to get acquainted with my length and girth. She was tight and her breathing was shallow, but controlled. She wasn't hyperventilating. As I pulled back and pushed forward for our first anal thrust of the evening, it was like driving a well-greased pole into a shaft that was fit perfectly to its diameter – there was contact all around my cock as it slid home into her most private of receptacles.

I was afraid I'd come on that first stroke. I clamped down hard on my piss-muscle and held it in for a few more seconds. I didn't do anything as childish as try to think about something else (like work or anything). I can't imagine anything more pleasant than fully concentrating on a fabulous bitch quivering and shaking and moaning underneath me.

I began a slow, steady rhythm that I knew would result in a full blast of jism very soon now. The conquest was complete. She was totally dominated and knew it. She even moved her hips back and forth willingly now, under my close supervision, accepting the rape, accepting the strapping and the blowjob, the doggy-style fucking and the humiliation of being repeatedly required to suck on a cock that had just been in her cunt. And finally, she was being ass-fucked. Forced to endure an invasion from an unknown man, while on her knees and shoulders, held by her hair just off the ground, blindfolded – all this after having been brought from the safety of her home, via car-ride in a trunk, to a place unknown.

I was behind her, a hand on one hip, another fisted into her hair, using that hand alternately to pull her head back slightly and push down in the small of her back to keep her forced down. This kept her shoulders on the ground and her head pulled back. I used this position of leverage to ass-fuck her vigorously, relishing the oily scrape of my most precious organ inside her most private hole. I knew now, without question, that while this rape may have started out as an unpleasant experience for Raven, she had gotten off a few times and was now "into it". My duties and obligations to her were over for now my own orgasm was upon me.

There are times when the best of intentions are overcome by circumstances. Deep in the recesses of my mind, I had always intended to pull out and have her orally ingest, as a token of my appreciation, the fruits of our encounter. It's fitting that a woman kneel patiently, head upturned, mouth held wide open, to receive those hot blasts, especially in circumstances like these – of rape, submission and surrender.

Usually, I'd keep my cock buried inside the girl's mouth for my orgasm. I had no need to see my own sperm and a warm mouth was always preferable to a hand, whether hers or mine, during those last few seconds. On occasions where I was ass-fucking a bitch, I usually allowed her to simply open her mouth, while pulling out at the last seconds and shooting inside her, reminding her not to spill any excess. After all, I had just been in her ass – it was only polite to allow her some dignity, depending on how well she'd behaved up until that point.

However, as much as I would have like to drive home this final point to her, to let her swallow my essence, it just felt too damn good inside this particular bitch's ass to pull out. As I passed the point of no return, riding out those final two or three seconds of bliss as my load gathered itself, traveled from wherever it originates, up through my cock, into and through my mushroom head and deep into her bowels, I consoled myself that there were always other opportunities, other bitches, other cunts and whores who could be introduced to this wonderful way of consummating an energetic evening of kidnap and rape.

"As it has been in the past, is and forever shall be, a bitch forever and a cunt for me!" I reveled in my orgasm.

I stayed inside her, content to relax, as my cock slowly deflated. I love that feeling, after orgasm, as my cock relaxes, but still retains more than the usual amount of blood inside, cooling from its boiling point, large and still ominous, but sated and relaxed. She was quiescent underneath me.

I was distressed, though, not having been able to provide a final humiliation for her, a token of our time together, a true feeling of what it means to be totally used. After all, when you boiled it right down, this encounter had turned out to be just a conventional spanking and fucking. Sure, I had dressed it up a little bit, put in some feelings of helplessness, increased the intensity of the spanking, given her some great orgasms, taken her through the three stages of fucking – oral, cuntal and anal, but how much of it was really 'new' to her. I had no idea, but didn't want her to be too disappointed. I was worried that I'd failed her in some way. Imagine that! Usually, I felt forcing a woman to swallow my sperm was the proper conclusion – but my desired outcome had been overborne by current events.

But then, a glorious idea occurred to me, as my relaxing cock brought up another physical need.

Still inserted inside her ass, I let another exchange of fluids take place, as I passed my stream from me to her. It had been a few hours, after all, since I'd relieved myself and my bladder was full. I held her tightly as I pissed inside her ass, brutally pulling her hair, subduing her now suddenly-thrashing body. After all, I didn't want to soil my own carpet.

Gosh, it feels good to take a piss after sex!

When it was all over, I warned her to stay in position as I fetched an ass plug from a drawer of the end table and deftly corked her shut. Everything in its place and all's well that ends well.

As I cleaned up and rested on the couch for a few minutes, Raven must have felt safe enough to risk a few words.

"What are you going to do with me now?" said from the floor on all fours, still blindfolded.

"I'm going to take you back home the same way you came, in the trunk," I replied matter-of-factly.

A few tense moments of silence. I could tell she struggled with some internal conflict.

"I don't have any idea who you are and I can't believe I'm saying this...but that was the best sex I've ever had."

There was nothing that I could add to that observation, so I remained silent. Another brief moment went by.

"I can't accept that this is all there will be. I won't report you, but I have to know who you are. Nobody has ever made me feel this good before."

Her voice was breaking while saying this...it must have been very difficult for her to admit the truth...the universal truth hidden deeply in the female mind. But I was a cautious man, a man that had been through this before, present when a woman had to face this truth. Even though I sensed utter honesty in her voice, I knew that a friend or relative could temporarily brainwash her and convince her that I was, indeed, a man deserving of some jail time. Not being eager to run that risk (and not having to) I re-applied tape to mouth, intending to keep her quiet for the duration of my own brief recovery, despite fierce struggles from her and pleas to continue a dialogue, a delicate negotiation whose ultimate goal (for her) I knew was to become a permanent fixture in my home.

Shortly thereafter, I re-introduced her to the friendly confines of my trunk and began the drive back to her place, the clothespins still decorating her nipples. I secured her hogtie in such a way that she remained on her side, unable to rub them off. She could take them off herself, as I'd leave her only very loosely tied when I dropped her off – only enough for me to make my getaway.

As I returned this particular bitch to the place where I'd picked her up, I pondered my life. I'd always been dominant with women, always willing to take what I wanted, liking variety. I'd been lucky really, so far, that I hadn't become some big burly bald man's bitch in prison yet. I was skating way over the edge with this behavior; especially when there were enough willing women around who ENJOYED being treated this way!

And as well, this fucking bitch was so hot that I was actually daydreaming about a second rendezvous with her. I'd never done that before...a real testament to her that I'd had a great time. I wondered, if I told her, if she'd appreciate such a compliment from me.



Kidnapped & Taken Ch. 02



I was finally forced down the stairs into a gloomily lit basement – this creep probably jerked off down here in his little hidey-hole. He shoved me onto a double bed, with a cheap, thin bedspread. I instinctively rolled over onto my back, wanting to view the surroundings.

I don’t even want to go in to how I was here in the first place. Stupidity on my part, to leave my door open like that.

I was still fully clothed, but the way my kidnapper had been groping me as he forced me from the trunk of his car down into his basement left me no illusions that this probably would not end with just a kidnapping. My hands were secured behind me by some kind of weird plastic twist tie. I’d seen them used by cops in news programs on TV. I’d also seen them used by contractors who’d called them “cable ties”. Anyway, my wrists were closely bound together with these cable ties. I was effectively helpless.


He was huge, standing at the foot of the bed, well over 6’ tall, white, broad-shouldered, he looked to be in his mid-30’s. He probably had brown eyes, but they looked to me like black pools of evil – no hint of human kindness there.

I fixed his face in my mind, for the future…I could make it out only dimly in the weak light, but I would know him if I saw him again – his physical size would make him easy to pick out, even if he was nondescript otherwise.

“You ready to service a real man, you cock-teasing bitch,” my kidnapper said.

“If there was one here, I might,” I shot back.

“We’ll see about that, whore.” Getting on the bed, he straddled his knees on either side of my ribcage. He was even bigger up close then he was a few feet away. The breath was forced from my lungs as he knelt astride me.

He grabbed a handful of my hair, arching it backwards, down into the mattress. My chin was forced back, exposing my neck. With his right hand he grabbed around my neck, enveloping it with a huge hand as he brutally pulled my hair with his left. Although he didn’t look to have a bodybuilder’s physique, he was strong as an ox.

He slowly turned my head from one side to another, leering at me. I couldn’t help myself.

“Let me go, you bastard, let me go!”

“I may let you go, later, depending on whether you learn how to behave like a good girl,” he replied in a menacing tone.

With that, he released his grip in my hair, unzipped his fly and took out his semi-hard cock, along with his balls. It was big, probably bigger than average, but not obscene – probably about in proportion to his physical size. He scooted up along my torso a few inches, holding his thing right above my face.

“You ready to suck some cock, whore?”

“Not if it was the last one on Earth, asshole.”

He proceeded to rub it up and across my cheeks, over my mouth. I kept it firmly shut, tossing my head from side to side in an effort to keep his thing away from me. It was disgusting, having him rub his filthy tool all over my face.

“I’m running out of patience, you cunt. Are you going to open that hole of yours?”

I didn’t grace him with a reply. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

He slapped me across the face with one hand, while still keeping his now-hard cock poised above my mouth. It hurt, but he’d have to do more than that to break me down. He switched his prick to his other hand and slapped me on the face again, this time from the other side. While the physical sting of the slaps hurt, the shock of the slaps hurt even more. I was beginning to realize the hopelessness of my situation, my own complete vulnerability. Here I was, handcuffed and helpless in some strange man’s basement, kidnapped from my own home, manhandled and mistreated, probably about to be raped. Would I have to actively participate in it as well? It wasn’t enough that he could simply force my legs apart and rape me? I had to suck his cock as well?

It was one thing if he just forced himself inside me (good luck getting in, mother-fucker, I was as dry as a bone), but sucking his cock, as he was demanding, would be active participation on my part. I couldn’t bring myself to do that! It would take more than a few slaps in the face to make me to open my mouth.

“I’m not going to suck your cock, you fucking bastard!” I shouted quickly between face slaps, shutting my mouth again before he could stick his dick inside it.

Then he stopped slapping me, instead letting his now-hard dick rest against one of my cheeks as he looked down at me. I shuddered at the heat emanating from his prick as it lay on my cheek…large and stiff and menacing. Let him try to fuck me if he wanted. I wasn’t opening my mouth so that bastard could stick his filthy tool down my throat.

He reached into his back pocket and took out several of the cable ties that he’d used to cuff my hands behind my back. “You had your chance, bitch” was all he said as he shuffled his body back down my ribcage.

He took the first cable tie and wrapped it around my neck. I was screaming obscenities at him by the time I realized what he was doing, but he ignored me. He must not have been concerned about the noise I was making. Maybe he’d custom soundproofed the basement. I wouldn’t put it past an obvious sicko like him.

As he tightened the first cable tie around my throat I immediately realized my predicament. These things were set up so that one end looped through the eye of the other end. They tightened, but they didn’t loosen! He tightened one at the top of my neck, just below my chin. He tightened another one at the base of my neck, just above my shoulder. He put another one right in the middle, right below my Adam’s apple.

Now my breathing was restricted as I gazed up at my tormentor. I was still calling him every name in the book but I was also scared shitless. He reached down and quickly pulled all three cable ties tighter and I was cut off from the most precious substance on Earth – air.

He moved back up my frantically twisting body, keeping me pinned under his massive frame. I was unable to make loud sounds now. Again, he put his dick in front of my face.

“How about now, bitch? Have you changed your mind?” He was smirking in triumph.

Looking up at him, gasping for air…but unable to take any in, I began to panic. I could die here, I well knew. He’d beaten me for the moment.

I opened my mouth, letting him slide his cock right in – he didn’t waste any time shoving it deep. I frantically made some back and forth movements. I’d do anything, at this point, to get air back into my lungs. My body was beginning to burn from the lack of oxygen. My legs were thrashing, but my arms were still firmly secured behind me and my torso was held down by my attacker’s body.

But he showed no signs of accepting my change of heart. He just kept sliding his cock back and forth as I suffocated from the cable ties that were around my neck. I thought about rebelling again, biting his dick…but I was too scared for my own safety. Pissing him off even further wouldn’t help me.

I began to fall into blackness, everything getting far away. The action of his cock sliding in and out of my mouth faded into the background as well. What a way to die, tied and raped and suffocated…

===---===---===

…I woke up later, coming to my senses both slowly and quickly. I immediately noticed that I was naked, but that my hands were free. I felt more cable ties around my neck, snug, but not shutting off my air. I fingered them. They were a silent but obvious threat. I was still terrified from what, in my mind, had happened just a few seconds ago.

He was still in the room as well, seated in a chair next to the doorway leading up and out of the basement. I had no idea whether I’d been unconscious for a minute or for a few hours. I was completely disoriented and scared.

“How about now? Had a change of heart? Ready to suck cock?”

I looked at him, looked at the door and knew it was hopeless. I was just a woman, after all. I’d never get past him. I knew making a commotion was also out. He didn’t seem to mind that I had made noise earlier.

He smirked in amusement at my silence and unzipped his fly, not getting out of the chair. In silent defeat, I moved and kneeled in front of him, taking his cock inside my mouth, resigning myself to giving my would-be rapist a voluntary blowjob. My face burned hot in humiliation. My naked status in front of him, while he remained fully clothed, reinforced my beaten status.

There were no further words between us for the next 10 minutes while I sucked my kidnapper’s fuck-tool. As the minutes passed, I was both disgusted at myself, murderously angry at him, fearful for my life and, (very strangely) turned on at the situation. I had determined that obedience was the safest course as, blacking out, I thought my life was over. But as my head bobbed in a rhythmic motion up and down his dick, I couldn’t help but pay close attention to my body and his body. My nakedness, in the cool air of the basement, reinforced my sexual ministrations. My nipples had hardened, whether from the air or from the situation (or maybe from both). My hands and lips were clamped around his cock. He had a definite male odor, but he wasn’t grossly dirty or anything. It was actually slightly intoxicating. His tool, being kind of big, was something that had to be reckoned with. Large dicks, in my experience, had a power all of their own to mesmerize me. This one was no different.

I heard (and saw) him reach into the top drawer of the dresser that was positioned next to him. He did this nonchalantly, continuing to enjoy the blowjob I was giving him. He pulled out a small black rubber butt-plug with a long tail attached to it. It looked horrid and another spasm of humiliation and disgust flashed through my body.

By the hair, he lifted my face up and off his cock and shoved the plug into my mouth. Only my extreme fear and terror of the way he’d suffocated me before allowed me to keep still at this fresh indignity. First, because I didn’t know where the damn thing had been…it only had an awful rubber taste, but still! And second, because the very act of not protesting (because of my fear) made me feel even worse. It was like I was a whore or something…first sucking his cock and then sucking on this butt-plug with a bunch of fake hair attached to it. It didn’t take a lot of imagination to figure out where it would eventually go.

My suspicions were confirmed as he turned me around, still on my knees and roughly forced me to bend over, pushing the plug right into my ass without so much as a fare-thee-well. As butt-plugs went it was pretty small, no more than 1” wide and 3” or so long, but I could feel it.

He pulled slightly on my new “tail”, silently ordering me to get back up on my knees, kneeling again in front of him and his cock. As soon as I lifted my torso, he gripped my hair, turned me around and forcefully shoved my mouth back down on his cock. Now, ass-stuffed, with some cheap horse-hair hanging out of my ass, I was really beginning to forget my prior terror.

I put my hands on his thighs in an effort to lift my mouth off his cock, but he must have known what I intended and shoved me brutally back down onto him. I bared my teeth, considering whether I should bite him or not.

THWACK! …across my right cheek.

“Don’t even think about it, you fucking whore! You bite my cock and it’ll be the last thing you do on this planet.”

Dazed from the face slap and chastened from the threat, I resigned myself to more cock-sucking, naked, still on my knees, hands wrapped around the base of his cock and his balls, but now with a butt-plug in my ass and a tail hanging off the butt-plug, like a long-tailed dog or something…probably a pony in his twisted mind. This was the most objectified I’d ever felt, like an animal…nothing more.

But still, in the back of my mind, despite the horrific nature of the moment, I was startled to realize that I was getting a warm feeling in my stomach. I’d never been used so roughly by a man before. How could I be feeling like this? Maybe I was misreading my body.

My mouth continued to bob up and down, like an oil derrick, obedient to the rhythm my rapist had set. From past experience, I knew the inevitable results of a steady rhythm on a man’s cock…especially a rhythm set by a man.

He’d soon cum. It was only a matter of time. The question was where. Would he force me to taste his cum, even swallow it…like some slut? Would he spray it on my face or my body…like some whore? Would he do the ‘gentlemanly thing’ and simply shoot into a tissue or onto his basement floor? I doubted that!

I continued to suck, intimately aware of the plug in my ass, the feel of the horsehair tail caressing my calves, his hand in my hair, his dick in my mouth, the air on my hard nipples, his male smell and (the worst thing I was aware of)…a warm fluttery feeling in my stomach.

When he came, it was almost a relief. I instinctively drew my head back in disgust, not wanting to swallow his load, but he would have none of it. He kept me on his prick until he’d spent himself fully inside my mouth. I wasn’t strong enough to resist.


“Get on the bed, bitch. Get on all fours.”

I looked up at him questioningly, still struggling to hold down his cum down without retching. He gave me a lazy slap across my left cheek as he continued to relax after his orgasm.

“Do what I tell you. I want your legs spread and on your hands and knees…like a whore begging to be fucked.”

“Please. Won’t you just let me go? I won’t tell anyone? I promise.”

A harder slap this time, but no words. With a heavy sigh and an unpleasant aftertaste in my mouth, I got on the bed. The only way out of this was through the door and I knew I couldn’t get past him. I had to bide my time.

As I placed myself on the bed, on my hands and knees, legs apart, I did feel like a whore. He’d told me to basically put myself in a doggy-style position. I felt ridiculous and ashamed kneeling on this cheap bed in a dingy basement with his cum settling into my stomach and a ridiculous “tail” hanging out of my ass. If I’d felt objectified before, I felt doubly objectified now. I was even more distressed by the thought that I’d basically accepted his “orders”, willingly or not, still unable to contemplate disobeying him again and having these new cable ties around my neck tightened like the last ones were. He was a bastard to put new ones on me like this! As if I didn’t already know what they could do!

The only consolation I could take was that he’d just come and unless he was superhuman (and none of the men I’d ever met before were), he wouldn’t get the satisfaction of fucking me in this position…he couldn’t get it up so soon after cumming in my mouth.


He just sat there for a few more minutes, enjoying the view, resting in his post-orgasmic bliss. Motherfucking Bastard!

Soon enough, he reached back into the top drawer of the dresser, from which he’d pulled out my butt-plug horsetail earlier and pulled out a second butt-plug, again with a horsetail…this once noticeably bigger.

I tensed in dread, feeling my anal muscles pucker around the existing probe in my ass. As soon as I saw it, I knew where it was going. He made me suck this second one too, licking and mouthing the hard rubber of one plug while still speared by the other plug. I was right. It was bigger…probably 50% longer at 4 ½” or so and 50% wider at 1 ½”. After he was satisfied, he wasted no time in pulling out the first plug and shoving the second one home quickly. It hurt going in whereas the first one was just humiliating. I could feel my ass mold itself around the hard rubber. I could feel the tip of it probing deep into my anal cleft, one side pressing against my cunt. I could feel the horsetail hanging down across my lower rump, brushing my outer cunt, tickling my thighs.

I stayed on my hand and knees, “like a whore begging to be fucked” using his term, but couldn’t resist grunting in disapproval as he shoved the rubber tool home. My tormentor didn’t take kindly to my attitude and gave me several powerful slaps against my ass. He was strong. I quieted down.

“You’re just a cock-teasing bitch, like all the rest. How do you feel being put in your place, you fucking whore?”

His outburst didn’t merit a response from me, so I remained silent.

And he slapped me again, right on the ass, striking the plug as well, making it hurt even more.

“Don’t ignore me cunt. Answer my question!”

“Let me go. Please let me go!” I cried.

Unsatisfied, he spanked me again and kept spanking me.

“I feel like a dirty whore. I’m scared to fucking death, you bastard!” I yelled. “You’ve had your fun! Please let me go!”

He was in no mood for mercy, though. I heard a click and, looking around, saw him slide his belt out of his pants. I heard myself begin to whimper in fear and sympathetic pain. He doubled the leather belt over in his right hand, fisted his left hand into my hair, wrenching my head back brutally and taking complete control over my body, and began striking me on the ass with his belt.

It hurt! It hurt like hell! He was brutishly strong and seemed to be using all of it in landing the belt across my ass. It would be bad enough with just the belt, but it seemed like every second strike also hit the now-larger and now-painful plug that was screwed into my butt as well and that made it worse. I thrashed underneath him, trying to get away, but he held me down like I was no more than a small dog, easily able to control me with just his single hand while he continued to strap me with the horrid belt in his right hand.

At some point, I began crying from the pain. I felt like a little girl being spanked by Daddy for something awful. I began babbling as well, begging him to stop, telling him I’d do anything…just please stop. I tried to bury my head into the bed, but was unable to as he kept my neck firmly arched back with his grip in my hair.

I could only endure.

As time passed, however, I felt my body temperature rising from the beating. The constant thrum of the belt against my ass also served to transmit vibrations to my cunt. In a strange way, I was being stimulated by the ass-spanking even though it was so brutal. I’d experimented around in the past with one boyfriend with a light spanking…it had never really floated my boat. This was nothing like that. It was a hard strapping, painful, but also somehow sexually stimulating, whether from the butt-plug, from my rapist (I hoped not from him) or something else I couldn’t be sure.

Anyway, as he continued to spank me, forcing my head back, moving from my ass to my thighs with the belt, I descended into incoherent sobbing, begging, pleading…and arousal. He totally broke me down, punishing me and now arousing me at the same time. I was terribly confused and disoriented.

He also continued to talk a blue streak of obscenities at me, calling me every name in the book, awful names, like cunt, bitch, whore, cum-slut, cock-tease, pain-slut, and gold-digger with equally objectionable adjectives like filthy, worthless, and shameless. And even though I knew I wasn’t any of these things, his right hand on his belt, his left hand in my hair, the plug in my ass, the pain radiating through my body, the cum digesting in my stomach, my own budding sexual arousal and my own stupidity at being so easily kidnapped all combined to more and more make me feel like I was all of those things that he was calling me.

Eventually, through the haze of the spanking, I understood him to be telling me to repeat all of these awful names. He was telling me to call myself a shameless cock-tease and a worthless cunt. And he was strapping me ever harder until I actually did it. I could feel the intensity of the belt striking my ass and thighs actually increasing as I continued to cogitate on his mind-numbing request.

“I’m a worthless cunt,” finally, breaking down, sobbing.




Kidnapped & Taken Ch. 02



“I’m a filthy cum-slut.”

“I’m a shameless whore.”

“I’m a fucking bitch”

“I’m a pain-loving cock-tease”

I began to repeat mindlessly his litany of insults, giving up, giving in, calling myself every name he wanted, every name in the book, every name I’d ever heard and many I’d never heard of before. At the end, by the time he stopped, I think I was actually convinced that I was all those things…how could I not be? He’d broken me down that much. Through the sobs and the tears I was coming up with names of my own, trying to go above and beyond, trying to find the key that would stop my punishment and stop the building heat in my loins. I thought I might go mad from the conflicting feelings of arousal, pain, humiliation, fear, lust and submission.

“I’m a worthless bitch and a cock-teasing slut. I’m a shameless whore who tries to give every man I see a hard-on. I deserve to be punished for all my teasing and my whoring.”

I was desperately trying to find any combination of words to debase myself to his satisfaction.

Finally, it stopped.

I felt waves of heat lifting from my tortured ass and thighs. He finally let go of the grip in my hair and I dropped my head gratefully into the bed, careful to keep my ass up and my legs spread. Now the gentle swish of the horsetail against my inner thighs was not pleasant, but a reminder of the pain I’d just gone through. I could feel my anal eye muscle wink open and closed around the base of the plug, shuddering in remembered pain against the onslaught of his belt.

I drifted in a haze, unthinking, uncaring, relishing a few brief moments of quiet and solitude.

I was brought back to reality rudely when he shoved a third and obscene plug into my mouth. This one was frightening, as wide around as the bigger cocks I’d ever had in my mouth…at least 2”. In terms of length, it was probably 6” or so, but it was the width that scared me. He shoved it in my mouth, holding it there, making me rub my spit all over it, threatening to gag me again. For a second time, I was simultaneously speared in ass and mouth by two butt-plugs…one having been there awhile, another being prepared by my saliva to be shoved home in a place not meant for it. I felt him pop the second butt-plug out and, taking this third one out of my mouth, jam it home hard into my punished ass. My ass squeezed and clenched against the unyielding rubber. I was mortified beyond words, completely humiliated. This one had a horsetail too. This fucker was around the bend!!!

The next thing I felt was him moving the tail to the side and sliding home, from behind, his cock into my cunt.

I was stunned at the feeling. After all of the abuse, the kidnapping, the cock-sucking, the corporal punishment, the humiliation, the fear of death by suffocation…the moment that stiff, hot piece of flesh sank home in my pussy I felt transported. The world shifted and my brain lost track of everything else and focused, like a laser, on the shaft buried inside my pink tunnel.

As he moved back and forth a few times, getting familiar with my cunt, placing his hands on my hips, getting his knees in the right position behind me, I came to a horrible realization that made me shudder inwardly.

If he fucked me in my present state of arousal (debasement?), I’d cum.

I didn’t want to cum from being fucked by this man. I didn’t want to cum while being raped. My whole being cried out against this outrage. It would nullify the rape, somehow. It would scar me. I understood this instinctually to be true (if not legally to be true). But even as my mind worked at light speed cogitating on these thoughts, my body was rising to orgasm in response to just the first few dick-strokes by the monster behind me.

It was incredible to me that this was happening. My body, outside of my control for the first time in my life, was responding like a fine-tuned instrument to male depravity and lust. In the past, I could come or not depending on my mood, my feelings about the guy I was with and a host of other variables. I’m not sure about other women, but I had a measure of control over my level of stimulation regardless of how good the guy was.

If he was good in the sack, but I was not in the mood, I could let him have what he wanted while not totally enjoying it myself. If he was bad in bed, but I wanted to cum, I could get there (usually).

But now my quaint notions about myself were rapidly being stripped bare. Here I was on my hands and knees, some cable ties snugly about my throat reminding me intimately that this was rape, not sex, my ass and thighs on fire (thanks to his leather belt), my shit-chute plugged by a monstrous piece of rubber attached to some cheesy horse-hair tail, humiliated, digesting one load of jism, being fucked by the perpetrator of all of these misdeeds against me…and after all this, I was rising to orgasm, inevitably, gloriously, humiliatingly, from a few simple strokes of his cock into my pussy.

As I came, I moaned in lust at the wonderful orgasm, in anger at my own weak body for betraying me, and in resignation and acceptance of the fact that I’d been beaten (both psychologically and physically) by a man who, by using me cruelly for his own pleasure, took my control of my body away from me so easily and so completely.

I heard the sicko behind me chuckle in a low voice, but he just kept fucking me. I felt his dick, hard and hot inside me, continue to saw back and forth.

He reached one huge hand around my face and wrapped it around my mouth…forcing me to breath through my nose as he continued to fuck me. I burned in shame and lust…all three of my holes now engaged…plugged in my ass, cunt speared by pistoning cock and mouth covered by rapist’s hand.

I won’t delve into what happened over the next half hour overmuch. Suffice it to say that I came…and then I cam again…and I continued to cum. He seemed inhuman in his control. My cunt remained wet from my own continuing orgasms and arousal and he had all the lubrication he needed to fuck me to his heart’s content.

As he continued to plow a furrow in my cunt, covering my mouth with one hand…I became intensely aware of his other hand on my hip or sliding across my back or pulling my hair. I could feel the intimate touch of the rubber plug in my ass, the ring of anal muscle holding it in, the tail as it lay athwart my right hip. He would gently palm the plug every once in a while…pushing it from side to side, rocking it back and forth, minutely fucking my ass with it. It was all horribly degrading and horribly stimulating at the same time.

I continued to cum, reaching a higher plateau of arousal.

I lost count of my orgasms.

I was in a sexual haze.

I became strangely desperate for it to end, for him to come. I needed relief. It was too much.

Inevitably, shamefully, I began rocking my hips back and forth, actively fucking him, encouraging him to get to orgasm himself. Here I was in the middle of a rape and I was fucking to his rhythm like he was a new boyfriend that I wanted to please. Privately, I burned in both humiliation and desire. Every orgasm of my own brought me closer to an agony of over-stimulation. Why wouldn’t he come?

In the back of my mind, I knew I’d recently blown him and this would give him more stamina. But he should be in a high state of sexual arousal himself! After all, wasn’t I beautiful? …a real fox? Hadn’t he been using me for an extended session of rape? If that was the kind of thing that got him off, shouldn’t he be horribly excited himself? Hadn’t he used a belt to mark my flesh? Hadn’t he speared my ass with three ever-larger plugs? Hadn’t he forced me to call myself awful names through his sheer dominance of will (as well as the strength of his hand)? By all rights this guy should have popped off in 2-½ minutes!

He uncovered my mouth, taking his hand away…fisting my hair instead and brutally pulling my head back.

“Please…Please cum,” I heard myself say, begging my rapist to shoot his load inside my belly.

“Beg for it, bitch,” was his response.

“Please. I can’t take it anymore. Please cum. It’s too much!”

“You really are a cock-hungry cunt, aren’t you…”

“A belt-loving bitch…”

“A cum-swallowing slut…”

“Yes…Yes…I am. Please! Please. It’s too much. I need it to stop…,” as I came again, wretchedly, to his verbal abuse and his wonderful cock.

“Turn around then and finish me off.”

It was a relief to stop the fucking, the wonderful but too-much fucking, although I felt a distinct twinge of disappointment to pull my cunt off his prick. It would have been so satisfying to take his orgasm inside me…”

I engulfed his cock with my mouth with gusto. Still on my knees with the plug still in my ass, I literally swallowed his cock deep. It was slimed with my own pussy-juice. I was past caring, obediently sucking his cock for all I was worth.

He had other ideas though. He put a hand on either side of my head and literally began fucking my mouth just as if it was still my pussy in front of him and he were still fucking me doggy-style.

There was no skill from me involved in these final moments. He simply used my mouth as a surrogate cunt and sawed back and forth, holding me in position as he’d held my hips from behind, using time and friction to complete his second journey to orgasm that night. It was both degrading and glorious at the same time…to be so used, but to have absolutely no responsibility.

While I felt totally objectified, I also felt more like a woman than I’d ever felt before. After all, he was completely turned on now and it was I who had brought him here. It was my body that turned him on. It was ME that he wanted to rape even though I’d never give him the time of day out in the real world.

Who knows, maybe this was the real world. I had never felt so alive, so powerful, so sexual, yet so helpless at the same time.

With eager anticipation on my part, I felt his cock grow inside my mouth as he reached and passed the point of no return. A new warmth spread through my belly as he buried his tool as far back as he could get it and (finally) came. I didn’t taste any of his cum this time. He was too deeply ensconced in the “oral pussy” that I was currently acting as, for his jism to reach my taste buds. I surrendered to the moment and didn’t struggle over the next ten to fifteen seconds as his fuck-tool cycled through four or five more spasms, emptying the last of its contents into my digestive tract.

Just as I was getting a bit uncomfortable and wanted to breathe, he pulled out and disappeared for a few minutes.

It was over!

I knew, deep inside my head, that this was my chance to run, to get away, to call the police to put him in jail. Even if I couldn’t do it, if he’d catch me during my escape attempt, I should at least try. Instead, I just slumped into the bed, curling into a fetal ball, exhausted, exhilarated from my experience.

He came back in just a few minutes and quickly tied me back up. Frankly, I was too weak and exhausted to protest. I was about to speak when he shoved my panties in my mouth and applied tape to keep them stuffed inside.

Now, suddenly desperate, I began to thrash. I had to talk to him, had to tell him what I’d experienced. He couldn’t deny me this, not after what he’d put me through. As he hustled me back up the stairs though, still naked and into his trunk, throwing my discarded clothes in a pile next to me, a new desperation sank in, the thought that he’d dump me somewhere and I’d never see him again, never be able to talk this through with him. I wasn’t afraid of dying, I didn’t think he’d kill me. But I was afraid that this experience, dreadful, wonderful, painful, exciting, excruciating, exhilarating, was over without chance of repeating. I was literally sick in my stomach because he’d taken away my innocence, exposed me for what I could be. And then he’d taken away my speech, the ability to communicate that I’d give him whatever he wanted, if he would just keep me!

As he left me, in a loose tie, but still gagged, pleading with him to no effect through my panties, I felt a black despair as awful as the sun that had exploded through my body earlier.

I sobbed in silent desolation for a long time on the cold cement of my garage, tasting bitterness in the cloth of my panties in my mouth, before freeing myself and walking into the house… 



Kidnapped & Taken Ch. 03



I was woken out of a dead sleep with a hand over my mouth and a body on top of me, pinning me to the bed. Frantic with a paralyzing terror, I was too groggy to resist effectively and was quickly trussed. He replaced his hand with a pair of panties stuffed in my mouth (I assume they were mine) and a lot of tape. Although I could make noise, it wasn't noise that would penetrate a wall. My hands were tied behind me. My ankles were crossed and tied. The bastard then tied my ankles to my hands – I was hogtied! Finally, he passed a loop of rope from around my hogtie and secured me tightly to the brass headboard. I couldn't even roll around now. I was completely helpless, in his power.

I got a quick glimpse of him during these few minutes. He was tall, very tall and had regular features. He looked to be in his 30's. The room was dark…I couldn't see much else.

He left the room, leaving me helpless on the bed. I was terrified. I had no idea what was going on.

I was also extremely excited, sexually excited, more excited than I'd been in a while. I'm submissive at heart. More than that, I'm a masochist as well. Some might call me a pain-slut. But I'd become jaded recently…almost bored with my sexual activity. Although I was heavily involved in the "scene", I'd been going from partner to partner and things had become slightly mechanical.

But these few short minutes had gotten my juices flowing, literally and figuratively. I could almost sense fluid seeping out of my cunt at just the thought of being raped by this big, powerful man who had so easily overpowered me, hogtied me, and was now confident enough to explore my house while I was forced to wait patiently for him, secured to my own brass headboard. I didn't recognize him from any of the previous men I'd been with. He was someone new.

My mind ran through an endless list of possibilities while he was away, evidently searching the house for valuables or something. Would he rape me here in my bedroom? Would he throw me in his trunk and take me back to his place? Would he take me out to a nearby park and rape me outdoors? What if he didn't rape me at all? What if he just burglarized my house and left? Although I should have been happy at that last thought, I felt visibly shaken as that possibility entered my mind.

In a way, I guess I was hoping that he would rape me. Although, as I thought about it, if I was HOPING to be raped, it couldn't REALLY be rape. It might be rape in his mind, since he had gagged me and cut me off from the ability to urge him on (so to speak). But then again, since he was a rapist and thus (by definition) ill in the head, he probably didn't think of it as rape himself. He probably thought that I "wanted" it.

Which, in this particular case, I did!

These delicious feelings and thoughts were coursing through my mind and their effects were coursing through my body…and nothing had even been done to me yet! I could sense that if I were an inexperienced submissive, an inexperienced masochist, or even just a regular girl (with the usual dark fantasies of being taken and ravished by a powerful man), I would be terrified. Terrified of rape by a stranger, terrified of what he might do. Being experienced, though, I knew already that there was little he could do to me that had not already been done. What he was dishing, I could take…so long as he didn't kill me – that was the only thing I had to be worried about.

He came back.

He undid my hogtie and the knot about my ankles, leaving me gagged and my hands tied behind my back. He ripped off my nightie. G*d he was strong. It was like nothing to him…it was such a turn-on.

He forced me to my feet, forced me down the stairs. I was in a fever of imagination and excitement. Would he take me to the living room? …would he bend me over my kitchen table? …would it be his trunk and to a private location that he controlled after all? I wished he'd just fuck me here. I was impatient. I needed him!

He turned me to the living room…forcing me to sit on the couch. He pulled from his pocket a long scarf and blindfolded me. I was plunged into darkness. I shivered in excitement. I couldn't see him now, couldn't see what he might do.

I felt my legs being positioned apart on the couch; knees bent and pulled up…spreading my pussy…opening it up. Since I was excited and wet already, I felt my pussy (I couldn't see it) open completely, degrading me further, betraying my excitement to my intruder (Why did I think of him as "my" intruder). I felt horribly humiliated and excited at the same time. I made no move to close my legs back up, but lay with my back against the couch, legs splayed, cunt open.

He wrapped some rope around each knee and pulled it back over the couch, probably tying it to the rear couch-leg on each corner. He made it tight and put some real tension on my legs. Now I couldn't close my legs if I wanted to. I continue to lay quietly back, unable to speak, gagged.

He grabbed my hair and forced me forward, roughly untying my hands. I heard the click of handcuffs as he repositioned my hands in front of me. And passed a loop of rope around my lower waist, tying my now-cuffed hands close to my waist. Here I was…naked, gagged, blindfolded, cuffed, tied to my couch with my legs spread, cunt leaking moisture, and my would-be rapist in front of me.

I wish I could have spoken. I'm not sure if I wanted to break the spell, to tell him it was okay to take me in whatever way he wanted. He hadn't done anything to me yet, not really, but I knew that, if given the chance, I'd have a fantastic orgasm tonight because everything was so unexpected, because I felt a twinge of fear for the first time in a long time and that made me horribly excited…desperately excited.

I needed this man to use me well tonight. I hoped he would do so! I consoled myself that he had all night…surely he'd use me to get off three or four times…I hoped one of those times might be in my pussy.

"Finger yourself, bitch…Give me a show," he said.

He had spoken! I wasn't sure what to make of it. Finger myself?

He gave me very little time to process his command. I felt his hand connect with my check.

"Do what I say, whore."

He meant for me to play with myself in front of him! That's why he had cuffed and tied my hands in front of me! I tentatively reached down to my puss. My hands were immediately drenched in fluid. I was even more physically excited than I had originally thought. I began to finger myself, knowing that I'd soon be shaking in orgasm.

"Careful you don't come, bitch…just give me a show," he chuckled.

Bastard! His tone revealed that he was fully aware of how excited I was. His order denying me permission to come was ridiculous on its face. What good was it to be ordered to FINGER myself if I wasn't allowed to COME? I guess this show was strictly for his own amusement, not mine. Even blindfolded, I realized that I must have been quite a sight for him…a good-looking girl, tied to her own couch with her legs widely spread (and secured by rope), her knees up, her cunt open and vulnerable and leaking, blindfolded, her hands cuffed and tied at her waist, helpless, naked, fingering herself for a total stranger and so excited that he had to tell that same horny bitch to NOT come to orgasm, while he was in the process of ‘raping' her! Unbelievable!

However, it felt SO GOOD to touch myself, to be humiliated like this. I happily slid my fingers up and down, careful to stay away from my clit lest I "accidentally" shoot the moon. I moaned into my panties.

"Go ahead and slide those fingers up there, cunt…I know you want to"

I purred silently in humiliated joy (into my panties) as I slid two fingers deeply into my cunt. I wanted to come so bad. I needed permission from him though, and I was unable to ask for it. My innate submissiveness wouldn't allow me to disobey the orders of this man, even though there was no earthly reason to obey him (other than fear of what he might do to me if I came without his permission…and he noticed it).

I heard him pull a chair over and sit in front of me (I think). I continued to fuck myself with my fingers, my hands trapped near my puss by the handcuffs and the rope around my waist. I was rising to orgasm despite myself. This situation was just too hot.

I felt a sharp sting across my right thigh.

He must have hit me with something…his belt? It wasn't his hand. I was so surprised that I pulled my fingers out of my cunt. His belt landed sharply again, but on my left thigh.

"I didn't tell you to stop, bitch. Get your fingers back in there, you worthless cunt."

Omig*d, I thought. This guy was around the bend. He was going to strap me with his belt, while I, tied helplessly, would have to CONTINUE to masturbate for him. And I couldn't COME! AARRGGHH.

He laid his belt again across the tender flesh of my inner thigh, much harder. I hurriedly re-inserted my fingers inside my sopping cunt.

He didn't let up. He continued to strap me as I fingered myself. Lazily, nonchalantly, he laid his belt on my flesh. I never knew when it might come because I couldn't see. I couldn't bring my hands up to remove my blindfold. I couldn't close my legs to protect myself. I was utterly helpless. With a few lengths of rope, a scarf, a pair of handcuffs and his anonymity, this man had put me in a position more vulnerable, more open, more helpless than I had ever been in.

His orders to masturbate while he strapped me were the topper to the whole situation. He KNEW I was wet. He KNEW I was excited. He could SEE me eagerly fucking my gash with my fingers while he strapped me. I could only imagine how hard his dick might be. (Oh, G*d did I want his dick.)

He got up and walked away. Where had he gone? I needed him here! …to keep strapping me and telling me what to do!

(I secretly fingered myself to a quick orgasm in his absence, getting at least some minor relief.)

I heard some noises from the kitchen, a door shut…maybe it was my refrigerator. He came back and sat down again (I think). I felt an object placed between my legs at the juncture where my puss met my thighs, something cool and hard. I was afraid to touch it.

"Fuck yourself with that, whore."

He had taken something from my refrigerator, obviously, and wanted me to use it to fuck myself…a further wave of heat passed through my face and upper body, the heat of fresh humiliation. As I fumbled for it with my fingers, I realized it was a cucumber, cold from the refrigerator, with bumps on it. A near-perfect natural dildo (as I'd had some prior experience with various kinds of fruit and vegetables shoved into different holes in my body). It was a small one, as far as cucumbers go…a big one as far as dildos go. I trembled in (secret) post-orgasmic bliss as I savored the idea of something more substantial than my fingers inside my cunt.

He resumed strapping my thighs as I worked the cucumber up and down my slit, lubricating it with my own special brand of sex. The kiss of his belt against my flesh was playing a symphony on my body as I worked that vegetable into my cunt. It was so hot for me that I was tied and fucking myself for a total stranger. I felt powerful, even, that I'd sneaked an orgasm (if only a weak finger-kind of orgasm) past him. I'd outfoxed him! I had at least some power in this situation!

As I worked the slickly lubricated vegetable into my pink hole, he continued his lazy, patient strapping of my spread thighs.

It's impossible to accurately describe the feelings that overcame me over the next several minutes. I can well imagine the terror and horror that might overwhelm an average girl in this situation. For me, being a natural pain-slut, a natural submissive…the idea of being tied and helpless, cut off from sight, spread like a Chinese acrobat in a Vegas show, and fucking my soaked cunt with a cucumber, while a complete stranger called me names, verbally abused me and strapped me with his belt was making me out of my mind with fear, excitement, lust, longing, and deep, deep feelings of wanting to please this unknown man, this man who so completely dominated my existence over the last hour.

I wanted to shove the cucumber all the way in, to show him how far I could take it and obey him utterly. I also wanted to not do anything with it, ashamed of my wantonness…mad at him for violating my femininity and treating me so awfully.

I wanted to spread my legs even wider than they were now spread, so that he could have fuller access to me and know, by my actions, that I approved of his use of me. I also wanted to close my legs and protect myself from this monster in front of me.

I wanted him to use the belt on other places on me. I craved the feel of that leather that was concentrating so directly on my inner thighs. I loved the pain, but I wanted more of it…I had a sick desire to see what it might feel like if this man strapped my tits or my pussy, or slapped my face again while I was fucking myself with a random vegetable from my ‘fridge. I also wanted to curl up and die, and have him go away…sick and ashamed of my own perverse desires.

These feelings warred in my mind, a jumble inside me as I fucked myself with nature's cock. I loved the feel of the vegetable inside me, but it made me ache for the feeling of something warm, something alive, the cock of this man who was inches in front of me. Blindfolded, however, I felt like we were separated by an unbridgeable gulf.

What was he doing? What was he thinking? Was he laughing at me? Was he stroking himself with one hand while strapping me with another? I was powerless in that I couldn't see him, couldn't read his thoughts and feelings. If I could look at him, then I could communicate with him, even without the speech that was denied me by my improvised gag. But I was unable to talk with my panties taped into my mouth. I was unable to see with the scarf covering my eyes. I was unable to touch him with my hands tied against my belly, free only to fuck myself. The only senses left to me were hearing and smell. I could smell my own heat, but I couldn't smell him. I could just barely hear the air as the belt, in coming down on my flesh, parted it. I could hear incidental movements that he made. I could hear my own heart beating and my own blood pounding in my veins and arteries. But I was powerless to read or understand the man in front of me.

I felt the kiss of the leather, for the first time, against my breasts, shocking me. I felt his hand in my hair as he pulled my head back (ooohhh…what a delicious feeling), gaining leverage to strap my tits. I felt his leg against my leg as he put one foot on the couch to balance himself, laying it against my obscenely spread right thigh, tender from his belt. I treasured that human contact with him, if only through the fabric of the pants.

"Don't you come yet, bitch…just keep fucking yourself…"

"Yes Sir," I thought…and would have said had I had the chance. I pushed my inanimate cock deep into my pussy, afraid to touch my clit, lest I have a second orgasm and betray his instructions to me. The belt came down again on my breasts and I lifted my torso desperately to him, accepting the leather against the flesh of my breasts, yearning for the sensation, for his touch, for the exquisite pain. My nipples burned in pain and ecstasy. This unknown man was terribly strong.

I felt so small, lifting my face up blindly to him, my eyes covered, my mouth taped, my hair pulled back, my fingers working furiously, my breasts heaving under his unkind, but effective and oh-so-desired ministrations. I moaned helplessly through my gag, inarticulate, wishing I could beg him for something…for permission to come, for permission to suck his cock, for permission to tell him I wanted more and for permission to end it. I was being overwhelmed utterly by his attention. I didn't know how much longer I could bear it.

And I was intensely aware of how close he was to me…the feeling of his leg against mine, the small transfer of body heat between us. I knew his cock must be just inches from me, but I was completely incapable of doing anything to get closer to it. My hands were tied below, one gripping the cucumber, the other sliding up and down my sopping gash. My hair was firmly in his grip…I couldn't have moved my head closer to him and I TRIED, straining against his hand, trying to shift my head nearer to his crotch.

I doubt he even felt my effort, so much like iron did his grip feel.

The strapping stopped, I felt him lay the belt around my neck so that the buckle and the end lay against what must be a mass of red breast-flesh now. He maintained his grip in my hair. I shivered in anticipation and utter, utter need.

"Keep fucking yourself, whore," was all he said.

I felt something small and vicious bite into my left nipple! He'd clamped it! I moaned in pain and lust. He clamped my right nipple as well. I increased the frenzy of my fingers against my cunt, drove deeper the cucumber into my wet and sopping gash. Twin wires of fire connected my nipples to my puss. His grip remained in my hair, pulling my blind eyes up to look at him, to look sightlessly at my rapist, in almost religious supplication, while my nipples were tortured and mashed by some unknown, unseen clamp, my strapped flesh burned and my fingers worked furiously. I was in both heaven and hell…the two were one and the same. All of the things that society had warned me of were coming to fruition and I was on the verge of a tremendous orgasm…and he had not touched me in a kind or gentle way…indeed he had hardly touched me at all. Most of his communication had been via speech, via the kiss of leather and, now, the sadistic bite of steel.

I felt his hand slap across my cheek, as I sat tied and naked, blindfolded, gagged, spread, fucking myself, flesh reddened, nipple-clamped, a belt draped around my neck, head craned upward...

I came.

I shuddered in response to the physical reaction of my body. It was too much. I did not mean to come and had been holding out against an orgasm for the last several minutes. He asked too much of me.

He couldn't tie me and make me feel so deliciously helpless and then not expect me to come to orgasm.

He couldn't strap me so intimately and not expect my body to rise to meet his attention.

He couldn't pull my hair so forcefully and deliciously and not expect me to become horribly excited.

He couldn't take away my ability to talk, my ability to see, my ability to reach out to him…he couldn't concentrate my senses so acutely on my sex…and not expect me to respond in kind.

And most of all, he couldn't clamp my nipples and have me fuck and finger myself and not expect me to have an orgasm.

"You worthless, fucking, bitch…."

"You dirty, horny, cunt…"

"You're nothing but a fuck-toy, getting off on this treatment, aren't you?"

His words drove my fingers even faster and I came again, explosively, to his verbal tirade as he continued to slap my face, hold my hair. I was a helpless doll, dancing on his strings…

"I'm going to take off this tape and take those panties out of your mouth. You're not going to make any trouble, are you? You're going to be a very good girl when I put my cock in my mouth, aren't you?"

I nodded my head vigorously, (although only minutely, so forcefully was he pulling my head back) blind, shaking in post-orgasmic reaction, eager, excited and desperate to touch his cock with my mouth…to touch any part of him with any part of myself. I felt like a small girl, wonderfully small and innocent and young, helpless, hurting, safe in the power of a male. Whatever this man wanted, I would give to him.

He ripped off my gag and I felt an incredibly hot piece of flesh touch my lips. Odd, how one sense can be so heightened when another sense is taken away. He was hard, he tasted wonderful. I could smell his cock as it entered my mouth.




Kidnapped & Taken Ch. 03



He retained his grip in my hair, sliding effortless into my mouth. He'd pulled me forward, by the hair, as he stood back on the floor. My body was a pretzel. My legs were tied back against the couch, spread almost impossibly wide. My head and torso were pulled forward to engulf his cock. I could get no leverage in this position; I could not slide back and forth on him. I could not give him a blowjob. I could simply open my mouth and be used by this man to pleasure his cock.

"Keep fucking yourself, whore," was all he said.

I still hadn't said a word.

He effortlessly drove me back and forth, up and down, on his hard, hot dick. As well, he kept lazily bitch-slapping me. He was a true bastard. He was my kind of bastard.

He used me like a tool, methodically, like an inanimate object. He used me in a fashion, despite my (supposed) vast experience, that I had NEVER been used before. I felt degraded, humiliated, utterly without power…and I don't think I ever felt as good before.

I had no responsibility here. I was simply a receptacle for this alpha male. He had chosen, now, to use my mouth to pleasure himself. As easily, it could have been my pussy or my ass. I don't think he took my wants or needs in this matter into consideration. He was ready for his cock to be stimulated. It would be inconvenient for him to untie me from my current position and fuck me anywhere else.

As well, I was not really tied into a convenient position to give him a blowjob either, against the back of the couch, my arms useless. This was no real impediment to him though. He just pulled me forward by brute strength, putting great tension on my torso…pulling them forward against the position of my legs. My body was in fierce tension against myself…if I had not been so distracted by my own state of arousal, by my desire to hold a vacuum seal around his cock with my lips, I would have been extremely uncomfortable.

I had been told to keep fucking myself with the cucumber and to hold my mouth open for his cock. Despite the less-than-ideal way I was tied to accomplish these two tasks, the fact was that I could do those things and so I did them. And he fucked my mouth and throat just as if I was on my hands and knees and he had gripped my hips and was taking me from behind. I don't think there was a single difference in the way it felt to him and to his cock, unless the interior of my mouth felt different from the interior of my pussy (or my ass).

And I continued to have wonderful orgasms…orgasms that would only and could only have been better if a real dick was inside me (his dick), rather than a mere substitute dick and my weak, pathetic fingers. I plateaued as he sawed his cock back and forth in my mouth…as he used his grip in my hair to work my head back and forth on his cock…I reached a stage where I felt like I was in continuous orgasm, my body bent forward, my legs tied back…a human doll arranged in a pleasing manner for a male.

I completely gave myself up to these feelings, content to let him twist and manipulate my body to meet the needs of his own body. My nipples burned under the bite of steel, my legs cramped, my pussy became sore from the action of the cucumber, my flesh was already sore from the belt…but I endured for him.

The mouth-fucking and throat-fucking that continued over the next several minutes was intense, wonderful, humiliating, emotionally exhausting and exhilarating. Sometimes he held me still, while he rocked his hips back and forth. Sometimes he held still, while with his hand he moved my head back and forth. Sometimes he made me do long strokes up and down the length of his cock, deliciously long strokes in which my mouth traversed his entire length. Sometimes my head made very short strokes near the tip of his cock (like sucking a lollipop)…sometimes my head made very short strokes while buried near the base of his cock (like sucking a lollipop, but in a very different way). He took me through an endless series of evolutions and variations on cock-sucking, but in all of these evolutions there was a steady rhythm, a man-pleasing rhythm, an up and down rhythm that I knew, from experience, had only one goal, one purpose.

His male scent was overpowering, so close was I to him, so intimate was I with him, so powerfully were my curtailed senses concentrated on him. I could not see, I could not touch…but I could taste and smell and I was being touched.

Eventually, his dick swelled inside my mouth and throat and I had a few brief instants of tremendous excitement and further humiliation, as I understood that he would come to orgasm himself; that he would do so in my mouth, that I would taste and swallow his jism.

I was disappointed only insofar that he remained buried inside my mouth as he came…that the transfer of jism from his body to mine occurred directly into my esophagus, not allowing me the joy and pleasure of rolling it around on my tongue for a few moments. I really appreciated that he let me keep him inside me while he came down from his own orgasm. This gave me a chance to milk the last few drops of his cum and stay connected with him just a little bit longer.

When he pulled out, he immediately stuffed the hateful panties back into my mouth. I was stunned that he would still treat me so. I prepared to spit them out so I could talk to him, but his hand lingered over my mouth, discouraging me from asserting myself. Even though I was in the non-thinking haze of complete sexual happiness, I remembered just barely that he was technically a ‘rapist' and that I might, even yet, be in some danger.

He un-cuffed my hands, but left them tied against my waist. He was gone so quickly that I didn't have a chance to organize my thoughts and call out to him. Just as quickly as he had come into my life he had now left my life.

Devastated, I endured the pain, the humiliation, the clamps, and my own despondence as long as I could before working myself out of his knots and crawling back up the stairs to cry myself to sleep.

The next morning, when I checked carefully, I saw that he had not stolen anything. He had come just for me.

That made me feel both better and worse.

Epilogue:

This story does have a happy ending.

I knew this girl was a livewire, that she was that special kind of girl who liked a special kind of treatment by a special kind of man. I knew right away that there was no raping this bitch…she was just too much of a whore. She didn't need to feel despair the despair that she just described. I came back…used her again…and gave her a chance to beg for regular attention from me (and recorded her answers, of course, for my own protection). I accepted her pleas to become a regular "victim" of my unusual tastes and we've been happy ever since. She wrote this summary of our first experience together at my command, though it's Chapter 3 of this series.

Obviously, I wrote Chapter 1…it requires no explanation…a wonderful wench…

Chapter 2 was written by the young heroine of that story. I'm not going to explain how I got that. I must say that I'm pleased at the level of accuracy she achieved in recounting her experiences. Although I don't accept the terms "sicko", "Bastard" et. al. that she variously used to describe me, I can certainly see why she'd take that point of view. I don't hold it against her.



Kidnapped and Traded



This story is a RP that myself and badboycal01 did. It has been rewritten to a story format so that it reads better and makes more sense. I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!

*

There is a knock at the door. I open the door and return to my Masters side as you enter the room. Master moves forward to enter. Behind him is a young girl in hand cuffs. Master moves forward to inspect her. Kneeling at my Master's side, I look up and inspect the new slave that is going to brought into my home. I am quite irritated that I am going to have to follow her orders as well as Master's even though I have been here longer. I look up at you briefly, examining you and smile widely before looking away hoping that my Master did not see. You follow me with your eyes as you remain calm while Master examines the new slave and I sigh softly as I realize that Master is to engrossed with His new slave to notice my slight disobedience. 

Walking behind me, you touch my back, mimicking the way Master is examining the new one. As you touch my back, I shiver uncomfortably; not liking you touching me in the same manner that Master is touching the girl. I look at Master, trying to get his attention without making any sound, and failing miserably. Instead, taking the slave into another room where he leaves the door open. I watch Him undress her and examine her naked body, thoroughly inspecting it, making sure that she is a virgin. I try to lower my head so that I do not have to watch this man that I love dearly inspect this young one, but you force my head up and make me watch. I try to shake my head no as you begin to slide a finger into my pussy, telling you that I don't want this done to me, but you completely ignore me.

"He doesn't want you anymore. You are a useless piece of meat to Him," you say as you hold my head firmly forcing me to watch more. 

A tear slides down my face refusing to accept this. "I know that He loves me or He would not keep me," I think sadly to myself. I can feel you move your fingers faster in me now as I start to get wet even though this is NOT what I want. "Would your Master approve of this? He doesn't even mind you anymore," you whisper almost cruelly in my ear. "My Master loves me," I whisper, convincing myself and not you as you continue to finger my pussy and stop just as I am about to come and watching the girl that is too young, in my opinion, cum instead of me from Master eating her pussy. 

I clutch my arms about me as you let me go and go into the other room and speak a few words to Him that I can not quite make out. He looks over at me as I am lowering my head so that He does not see me looking, and laughs. I begin to shake uncontrollably as I force myself not to cry, knowing that if I start crying, I will sink into a deep depression. 

While deep in thought, Master walks next to me. I notice Him walking towards me and my heart begins to beat a little faster. As He collars me, I smile inward. He pulls me to my knees and drags me to the dungeon where He sets me on the floor without a word and leaves. As He leaves without saying a word to me, I hear the door lock and I place my arms around my legs and begin to cry as my world crashes down around me. Sobs shake my naked body as I cry my heart out leaving me in an moving depression with the knowledge that My Master, truly does not care about me, but still wishes to keep me.

Later that night...

In the dungeon, I can hear how He fucks the young slave, for the first time in her very young life. I know Him well enough, to know that He is thoroughly enjoying her without any limitations whatsoever. As I listen to Him fucking her, I curl up in a ball and close my eyes trying to entice sleep to help me block out the unwanted knowledge of how much He enjoys her, and how much He does not want me. 

As sleep finally overpowers me, I drift off into a troubled slumber. I twist and turn and suddenly here the dungeon open. I look up at the door with hope in my eyes and become terrified as I realize that it is NOT my Master. I see a man wearing a white mask walk towards me and tie a chain to my collar and begin to pull my across the floor forcibly by my collar attached to my chain. I pull back and try to brace myself against the floor, not wanting to go, wanting to stay here and wait for my Master to return for me. Despite my efforts, your strength over powers me and am helplessly dragged across the floor. As we reach the threshold of the dungeon, I begin to scream loudly, hoping that Master will hear me and rescue me from this man that is taking me from Him.

As I am dragged through the dark house, I hear Master cumming once more in His new slave. Wishing it was me, I sink into a depression once again, but come out of it very quickly and start fighting once more as the masked man attempts to put me in the van, finally picking me up and throwing me kicking and screaming into the back of the van. I can feel the vans floorboards vibrating underneath of me as he drives faster to take me to a new place. I can only hope that I will be returned to my Master soon.

As the van turns, I slide in the back of the van, continuing to scream in case someone in a car next to the one I am most unwillingly riding in. I start to slide towards the front of the van and I realize, as I keep my screaming going, I realize that we are going downhill. As the van stops, No sounds are to be heard except for the screaming that I am continually doing. 

The van's door slides open and you drag me out of the van. I feel a sharp sting across my face as you slap me and tell me that I had better stop fighting if I have no desire to get hurt. I spit in your face not caring if I get hurt. I want my Master. I make that very obvious. I glare at you and try to kick you in the balls. 

You push me down to the ground. I take a huge breath as you kick me in the stomach. "Don't fucking try that again. Do you want to die?" You say to me as I hack a loogie in your face. "Take me back," I finally say. "I want to be with my Master. I have no desire to be with you. Even if he doesn't want me," I trail off. 

You pull at my chain and I kneel in front of you most unwillingly. "You are not his slave any longer. Did you know that he told several of His friends to come over to His house tonight and use you as they please? He just dumped you for My former slave... " You say as you remove the mask, revealing that you are indeed the man who gave My Master His new toy.

"My Master loves me. He would never do anything to harm me. He must be teaching me a lesson. I want to go back," I say defiantly "I do not want to serve you. I want my Master!" I scream at you.

"Look at me. LOOK AT ME, I SAID!" forcing me to look up at you. "Do you know why you are here?" you ask crossly, looking into my eyes.

"I do not care," I say looking defiantly into your eyes.

"Then maybe I should call your Master and tell him that he can dispose of you as he wanted to," you say without passion.

Scared, I look up at you with wide eyes that slowly begin to fill with tears. No longer struggling, I curl up and cry. "Just leave me alone," I sob as I slowly rock myself.

"You were born slave and you destiny is to be a slave. Your former Master wanted to dispose of you in a sex orgy for His friends. I, on the other hand, want a trained slave," You say matter-of-factly before continuing. "There is no way to get to the street from here. I will leave the house door open. Think about what you want and if you walk through the door, then I will know I have a new slave."

After you have left me outside, I lay myself down on the gravel driveway. I lay my arm out underneath my head and watch the stars disappear and the sky start to fill with pink tips, noting the rising of the sun. I have cried for so long that I have myself a headache and thrown up several times until there is nothing left in my stomach now. Now as dawn approaches, I fall asleep where I have been laying all night, not even bothering to close the door before I let sleep take over my body. 

Unknown to me, you have watched me all night from the window in your room as well as through the cameras hidden throughout your property. Now that dawn is approaching, the house is beginning to come alive with the turning on of lights and movement inside. You look at my fragile body as you leave the house, get into your van and drive away. 

I wake hours later and look around, disoriented. It takes a moment before I realize where I am and why. I rise slowly; gravel sticking to my arm and my neck tense. I notice that the van is gone and a wave of a deep depression hits me and I curl up into a ball and cry once more. I hear your voice as I am crying coming from everywhere and nowhere, informing me that there is food and drink inside and that I am free to take them if I wish. I shake my head slightly, not wanting to enter the house afraid of what it would mean. Besides, I have no wish to eat or drink. I have been kidnapped and disowned. I wonder vaguely if He even notices that I am gone or even misses me. "Probably not," I think bitterly. I get up and brush myself off really looking around and noticing trees, I walk towards them, exploring.

I hear the crunch of gravel and the purr of an engine as I am walking towards the trees. I look and see you coming back in the same van that you took me in last night. I watch as you get out of the van. You stop and look at me in my nude form. As you walk towards the house, a pieces of paper flutters to the ground. You notice my attention shift and tell me, "That is for you from your former Master." Putting an emphasis on the word 'former'. 

I reach down and pick up the fallen paper. I look at the piece of paper in my trembling hands. I open it slowly and see the customized stamp that is only my Master's. The note reads:

You were my first slave. I am now setting you free. My last command is that you are to find a new Master. You have served me well, but there is nothing more that I can teach you. I wished to end your life last night, but you deserve it. I am now giving it back to you. Do not look for me again and don't look back. Serve you new Master well. 

After reading the paper, I crumple it up, my ears starting to well up with tears. I throw the piece of paper to the ground and begin to run. I climb a tree when I notice you following me. "Come down here," you say as you reach the tree I climbed.

"Why should I," I shout down the length of the tree. "No body wants me. They always prefer someone younger or less experienced or more experienced. I am never good enough. Why should you be different?"

"I don't want to train you," he says moving away from the leaves and branches you are throwing. " I already know you are well trained. I want someone that knows what to do. You are acting like a little kid. Come right down. NOW!!" you say, your voice laced with dominance.

"No," I say throwing pieces of a small stick that I have been breaking up at you.

"I thought you were really worth the effort. You know, He is not your Master anymore and what He did was give you the chance to be a mature slave, Perhaps you would be better dead as He first thought," you say as you walk away from the tree and inside the house. After you walk into the house, I notice that the door remains open. 

I lay back against the tree, knowing that you can still see me and begin to mourn my loss not liking you more by the minute. "I have a right to act childish, damn it." I think to myself. "I just had my heart ripped up and then handed back to me.Why should this one be any different," I mumble to myself. 

As I watch the door while throwing a pity party for my lonesome self, you bring out a platter of food and hear you say, "At least eat something. I don't want any dead kids on my grounds." You say using the speakers as you walk back into the house.

After you have walked back into the house, I look longingly at the plate that you set on the ground and wonder whether I should attempt to eat it or not. I have been disowned and now the person, who has kidnapped me and given my now previous Master a new slave, wants to make me His salve. I shake my head violently at the thought. "I don't want charity and I don't want to be HIS," I think vehemently and turn my back on the front door.

Night falls once more and you do not come out to check on me, yet the door remains open. I wonder as I look over my shoulder seeing this, how long He plans on waiting for me. There is a strong breeze that chills me though it is a warm summers night. I sit in my tree and shiver not wanting to go into that house.

Unknown to me, as you go into your room, you watch me through your monitors just like a kid would watch a hamster in a cage. You throw a blanket out the window and let it flutter mostly to the ground before speaking. "You better cover your body with something more than those sticks." 

I hear you tell me to cover myself. I turn to see a blanket floating to the ground. I look down at the blanket and realize just how cold I am, not wearing any clothes. I climb down out of the tree and pick up the blanket. I look up at the window from which you dropped the blanket and notice that there are lights still on in that particular room before I turn away. I walk into the trees and lay between some for what little cover from the wind that they can provide as I cover myself with the blanket.

I fall asleep on the hard ground outside for the second night in a row. However, I am awakened after what feels like only a few minutes by drops of water splashing onto me. Blinking, I look up and notice the water falling from the sky. I giggle as I think of the times in my childhood where I used to play in the rain on days like this minus the wind. This time, however, the wind has picked up more and I am shivering because the blanket is becoming soaked quickly and is beginning to adhere to my skin while the wind zips right through it. Looking up, I decide that I do not want to get sick and walk towards the still open door, pausing to look up and make sure that all the lights were out. I walk inside the door and close the door to stop the rain from pouring in. I walk into the sitting room; curl up on the soft carpet and go to sleep.

The next morning you come downstairs while I am still sleeping and the first thing you ntice is that the door is closed and you go searching for me. Looking in the room right next door, you see me laying there, asleep. You place a note next to me that reads: This is not shelter. If I find you inside the house this afternoon, it will mean that you are my new slave.

I wake slowly in the morning feeling the soft carpet underneath of me. I begin to cry as I realize how much I have missed serving these past couple of days and try to fall into a deep depression. I find that I am unable to because the hole that was in my heart is gone. It still hurts, but it no longer aches inside of me. I sit up and look around at the surroundings and notice the note that was obviously left next to me. 

I see that the door has been open once more and decide to snoop around the house first before I go back outside where the sun is shining warmly. I start with the upstairs and look through the rooms. Most are spare bedrooms, 2 are bathrooms, and one is a door that is locked. I shrug and walk back downstairs finding everything I expect to find, a kitchen, dining room, living room, sitting room, and those such rooms I expect to find in a house this big. When I notice stairs leading downwards and follow them down. Once I have followed them down, I find myself in a nice sized basement, which has been turned into a dungeon. I look around running my hands over everything when I notice a cage and walk towards it. As I reach the cage, I accidentally trip over a stone that is loose and fall into the cage, the door closing behind me. I try to get out, but the door to the cage is locked.

When you arrive home, you find the door still open, but you are aware that I have not left the house because I am not outside. You take a quick look around the house and assess that I am not there. The only other place that I could be is the dungeon, where you saw me looking around earlier. I see you smirk as you find me in the cage. "I didn't know you were ready for the Cage yet. Do you find it comfortable little one? This is not like the regular cage at your former Master's." You say. "The only way to open this cage is with my Key from the out side, " You continue. "Even if the door its unlocked, like it is now." You add with a self-satisfied smirk. 



Kidnapped by a Barbarian



The Moguls' General had plowed me almost as deeply as Konan the barbarian had. And before he left he assured me that now he had enjoyed my 'asset's' he knew I would be a great success at the Moguls' court. 

When the General was gone I lay back happily among my cushions with my legs wide, feeling better fucked than I had ever been before, and thinking about my brilliant future. But I also longed to feel the great barbarian Konans' huge weapon plowing me deeply again. 

Suddenly my palanquin shook violently and I cried out in fear before lying back exhausted, hearing mumbled voices and groans from outside. But in a short time the curtain opposite me, at the other end of my palanquin, was torn down and I saw the back of my great barbarian spread eagled against the sturdy frame of my vehicle. His large, full, rippling muscles and great size, aroused me even in my tiredness. In a moment the General came behind Konan and knelt to part his muscular cheeks and began to tongue his entrance. The palanquin shook as Konan struggled to escape that tongue, but he was well tied. And the General, I knew, was a fine hand with a weapon, and soon he was fingering Konans' arse with firm experienced probings and the great barbarian was crying out at a pain I knew he would soon find turned to pleasure.

I began to stroke my own cock as I watched them. And I was right, as soon Konan was moaning and his cries were the ones of a man wanting more. The General entered him with his fine large weapon and Konan cried out painfully again at the size of it. But it was not long before the General was plowing my great barbarian deep, and Konan was moaning with pleasure. It was a sound I found aroused me more so that my cock grew to exceptional length and hardness at the sight of them fucking and the sounds they made. The General came inside Konan and I was almost ready to come myself, when a sudden blood curdling scream was followed by another and I froze in fear, expecting to be killed at any moment.

Two mounted barbarian's came into view slashing wildly down at the General and his soldiers, felling them left and right, before one rode up and freed Konan with a few quick slashes of his sword. I fell back upon my cushions both from my relief to have my great barbarian rescued, and at my shock at the massacre happening just beyond the silk curtains of my palanquin.

I stayed low, afraid of what may happen to my barbarian Konan, but afraid also of what might have befallen the Moguls' General, who had also fucked me well and assured me of a fine future at court.

Konan returned to my side soon after and looked down at me, and I was pleased to see the desire in his eyes and his cock growing even as he looked at me. But he said it was time to leave and taking my hand he pulled me up and led me outside, where I had a rude shock. The great General lay bound in the dust of the road, half a dozen of his men lay bloody and dead, and I felt ill to see my mules gone and my palanquin damaged. I was at Konans' mercy and though I wanted his great weapon sheathed deeply in me I was suddenly lost and worried about my future.

*****

I had the naked young nobleman up before me on my horse, his fine arse resting against my naked manhood as we departed from the scene of the massacre and headed into the surrounding hills. In little more than a mile I had hardened again and my cock wanted to be buried inside the fine passage of the young nobleman resting against me. I reined in my horse under a lone shady tree, then set my hand between the young nobleman's shoulder blades and pushed him forward, over my horses' neck. 

"What are you doing?" he asked, turning his head to look at me.

"Do you want to ride this fine weapon of mine again?" I asked, holding my cock and stroking it.

"Yes. I have not told you Konan, as you left me so suddenly, but I have never had such a great, wonderful, weapon inside me before, and I want to have it fill me again more than anything," he replied, which pleased me and was as I expected.

His hole was visible between his fine full arse cheeks and he moaned loudly as I tested it with my fingers to see how loose and wet it felt. "You will take me easily," I told him with pleasure, finding him still well stretched and lubricated. So I did no more than push him further forward and hold my cock head to his entrance then pull him back onto me. My young nobleman cried out and tried to open himself for me as I lowered him and my weapon drove up into him. After his earlier use he accommodated me more quickly, though he still cried out and groaned loudly as my pubes reached his entrance. Now I held him there with an arm about his waist as I urged my horse into a gentle canter. 

"Oh no, I can't take it like this," my young nobleman cried out, arching his back as the motion of my horse moved me about deep inside his passage. 

The motion of my cantering steed worked my cock extremely pleasurably inside him and he was soon moaning and gasping, pulling up his knees to open himself wider as he rode me, held firmly in place by my strong encircling arm. The loud frequent sounds he made were a very pleasant accompaniment to my ride inside him.

I came three times inside him before we arrived at my camp, each time filling him with my hot cum and making him moan with great pleasure, though he moaned a great deal in between as well.

Ulk and Ork had arrived before us and I reined my horse in near where they were seated about a small fire. The Moguls' grand General was still bound and now tied to a nearby tree, and the nobleman's mules were tethered to several others, their loads removed and stowed in side a tent. Seeing all was well I pushed my young nobleman forward again until I could free my cock, it made a pleasant sucking sound as it left his hole, leaving his arse slightly gaping from its long stretching on our ride. I slid from my horse and helped the groaning young nobleman down, having to support him, as his legs were too weak to hold him up immediately. 

"You have ridden me so hard I cannot stand," he said, falling against me and moving his mouth to mine, so that I took him in a deep kiss and stroked his cock until he came again up my hard flat belly. I knew he had come before on our ride and I was pleased at his obvious virility. 

I then set him aside. "Go to the river to refresh yourself," I said to him, turning him to face the fresh clear stream that ran through the valley beneath the shady trees where we had made our barbarian camp. "I will join you there soon and we'll see how well you like taking my weapon in the water," I said, pushing him towards the steam and watching him stagger as he walked towards it.

I spoke briefly to Ulk and Ork then went to the General and knelt and inspected his bonds. 

"You will pay for this barbarian," he said through bared teeth. 

"I think not," I said. "I think it shall be you who pays, my fine General," I told him, having some good idea of how he should be made to pay for his treatment of me. 

Then I stood and went to the river where I saw my young nobleman lying on his back in the shallow water. I approached him and saying, "Stay floating as you are," I took his feet and pulled him out into deeper water until I could kneel on the sandy bottom with only my head above water. Then I spread my young nobleman's legs wide and pulled him towards my mouth before pushing his belly down lightly. This set his cock at a level so I could feed it into my mouth and I sucked strongly on it as I played with his balls. Then when he was moaning and hard I released his belly letting his hips rise slightly in the water before resting his thighs on my shoulders and moving my mouth to his hole. I found it slightly open still and slipped my tongue inside it, to his sudden moans and splashing, as he quivered form the feel of it entering deep into him. Finding him so ready I stood slowly letting his legs loose so that they opened wide and fell to my sides and once standing I ran my hands under the small of his back holding him up. Then I had to do little more than slide my engorged weapon into his eager open arsehole as he moved his hands to stroke his body and cock and work his nipples. 

He began another long session of moaning and crying out as I plowed him deeper than I had before, and for far longer. Eventually I roared and came, filling him again with cum, then helped him by wrapping my hand about his, so we both shared the pleasure of jerking him vigorously off. 



Kidnapped by a Stripper: Prologue



Prologue

This story really begins five years ago. Victor Maxell was the founder and CEO of Maxell International, the largest and most profitable tech firms in the Santa Barbera area. He had it all: movie star good looks, fast cars, a nice home, and more money than Gates and tons of expensive toys. The only down side to his life was his wife. She was a lovely woman but he only married her because he knocked her up. His marriage was a joke and he needed a distraction and he needed it bad. And he found it.

Driving home late one night Victor noticed a billboard he had not seen before. It featured a scantily clad woman clutching a pole seductively. The sign read "The Back Room: A New Kind of Gentleman's Club." The grand opening was that night. Why the hell not he could always use a lap dance. 

To be honest The Back Room was just like any other gentleman's club. He was dark and smoky with one stage and a bar. So much for truth in advertising but it beat going home Victor told himself. 

"Gentlemen, put your hands together for the lovely Roxie!"

Some kind of supposedly sexy techno music began to play overhead. A spot light illuminated the stage. And out she stepped. Roxie. God she was gorgeous. She was young at least 18 if he had to guess. A lean build with legs to die for. They seemed to go on forever. And that ass, god it was nearly perfect. The chest was a little small but the long wavy brown hair framing those fiery dark eyes and full pouty lips more than made up for it. 

And he noticed this despite the fact she was dressed in a dark blue power suit and Ducky (Pretty in Pink) fedora. She sauntered around the stage enjoying every moment of her little show. The first thing to come off was the left shoe which she tossed back stage. Then came the right. She then unbuttoned her pants but left them on. Instead she started unbuttoning her shirt from the top down slowly. She had the tease part down pat. 

Halfway down, she stopped. She instead started unbuttoning the other way. God she was hot. Then she slid off her pants and tossed them aside. Underneath her firm ass was held tight by a thong that seemed to disappear. Then with a final flourish she undid the last button of her shirt and let it drop to the ground. Beneath her pert little breasts were supported by a neon pink bra. 

She grabbed the pole and began a wonderfully seductive little dance. She hung upside down, gyrated and everything else she could seem to think of. Then the bra came off. The whoops and cat calls reached a fever pitch. Then the song ended and she was gone. A waitress came by. 

"Miss, miss."

"Yes?"

"Can I arrange a lap dance from that young woman? Roxie, I mean."

"You sure can. Just a sec."

Less than ten minutes later there she was. She stood next to his table bare tits in his face. 

"I hear you wanted to talk to me."

"Oh I want to do a little more than just talk."

"Good, so do I."

She took his hand and led him to a private room in the back. It was small and dark with blue mood lighting. She pushed him into a soft plush red chair. He handed over his money and she got to work. She climbed up onto his lap and started her dance. She began to rub herself all around him without ever touching. 

"Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah?"

"What's with the hat?"

"Oh this? It never comes off."

"Why not?"

"It's lucky."

"Well that's good."

"Why's that?"

"Because I want to get lucky."

"Wow, you did not just say that."

"And what if I did?"

"Then I feel sorry for you."

"Or you could come home with me."

"I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"It's against the rules."

"So what?"

"I could lose my job."

"I'll buy you a new one."

"Stop it."

"Why?"

"I can't."

He grabbed her and pulled her down onto him kissing her deeply and passionately.

"Yes, you can."

That night he took her back to one of his side apartments. They made love like he never had before. It was the hottest thing he had ever felt. That was five years ago. 

Now life was very different. Roxie had been his mistress since that night. She lived in the apartment which he paid for along with her new breasts. The club closed down so she relied entirely on him for money. Every night she tied his hands to the bed frame to make things more interesting. All in all it was a good system. Until...

"What?" Roxie asked incredulously.

"I'm done with you," Victor told her.

The two were lying in bed having just made love. 

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. It's been fun but I'm bored. I'm looking for someone new, someone younger," Victor explained as he started dressing, "the rents paid to the end of the month then you need to get out of here."

"But ..."

"No but's, just leave."

"I gave your five years of my life."

"And?"

With that he was gone. Who did he think he was? He couldn't use her like this. She had given up everything to be with him and he could just throw it all away? No, no he could not. NO, HE COULD NOT!! She would fix him. Somehow someway she'd fix him. Then she saw the rope on the head board. That gave her an idea.



Kidnapped by a Stripper: Pt. 01



Chapter One: The Birthday Boy

"It's almost the big day," his mother reminded him. 

Bill smiled. She had done this every morning this week. It was his 21st birthday that Friday. She seemed more excited than he did.

"Sure is," he told her.

It was weird. He didn't feel like he was going to be an adult in a few days. He still felt the same as he always had. He stilled looked the same. A boyish face, short sandy hair, lean runner's build, nothing too special, he sat at the table enjoying a plate of pancakes as she nibbled on her toast.

"Now remember we're having a party for the family Saturday night," she told him.

"That's good, the guys wanted to do something Friday night for me."

"Well OK, just make sure it's not too rowdy."

"I'll try, but no promises."

"Now hurry along or you'll be late for school."

"K mom, bye love you."

Bill was out the door before she could even blink. God, this Friday was going to be fun. His friends promised the day was going to be fun and a surprise. That worried him just a little. His friends tended to take things a bit far. The only real problem was going to be surviving the week.

It was Tuesday so he had Algebra. God he hated that class. Math was never his strong suit. After that he had US History. When he went to bed that night he told himself only two more days.

Wednesday he had no classes but he did have to work at his part time job. He parked cars for a local restaurant. It wasn't a glamorous job but it was his. Only one more day left.

Thursday he had his second Algebra class of the week. Would this class ever end? After that he had Intro to Psychology. That class wasn't so bad. Tomorrow was the day, he told himself before bed that night.

By far Friday was the worst. He had no classes and it was his day off. He had nothing to do, nothing to distract him from the party that night. The anticipation was killing him. Finally the night arrived. His mother was watching her shows on tv when Bill walked in to say goodbye.

"Bye, mom, see you later."

"Bye, sweetie, have fun."

Bill opened the door to leave and came face to face with Victor Maxell.

"Hey, dad."

"Hello, sport, I saw Luke outside, ready for a big time?"

"You know it."

And with that he was gone.

"You ready pal?" Luke asked.

"You bet," Bill said climbing into the passenger's seat.

Luke was Bill's best friend, a part of a whole gang of friends he hung out with. They would all be at the party that night. Luke was the school quarter back a buff young man with short spiky black hair. 

"So what's on the agenda for tonight?"

"I thought we'd have a quiet night in."

"Really?"

"Well maybe not quite."

"Now that's better."

They soon arrived at Luke's apartment. Luke lived in a small apartment in an old brick apartment building in an older neighborhood mostly used by students. Inside the party was already under way. The music was blaring and the drinks were flowing. Already in attendance was Luke's roommate Mark. He was very similar to Luke with long brown hair and a fair build. There with him were their friends: 1) Tony - more boyish with black buzz cut hair, 2) Cain - a nice looking but reclusive young man, 3) Johnny - an Hispanic young man with spiky black hair and 4) Talon - the weightlifter of the group. Together they were a motley bunch but it worked for them. 

The party carried on late into the night. There was drinking and laughing and plenty of playful fighting. The only thing missing were the girls. They had invited several but it was clear none of them planned to come. Which was a shame since most of them, Bill included, were single. The only exception was Talon.

"Where's Pricilla?" Bill asked.

"Home, she thinks I'm studying."

"Why are you lying to her?"

"She's starting to get very jealous. I can't do anything without her freaking out."

"Great girl, don't let her go," Bill said sarcastically. 

About 3am the party was just hitting high gear. The boys were in the middle of some kind of makeshift fight club when there was a knock on the door. Bill opened the door to find a cop standing on the other side. She was a very attractive cop: only a few years older than he was, tall, lean, long brown hair pulled back into a ponytail under her hat, but still a cop. She was dressed in a traditional beat cop uniform.

"Can I help you officer?"

"We've gotten several noise complaints tonight."

"Oh god, I'm so sorry, we were celebrating my birthday and ..."

"So it's your birthday is it? Well then we'll have to do something about that now won't we?"

"Officer?"

"Actually," she said reaching for something just out of sight, "the name's Roxie. And you've been a very bad boy."

She produced an ipod dock.

"What the hell?"

She pushed him into the apartment knocking the door closed behind her with her foot. She placed the dock on the entertainment center and turned it on. A loud techno music starting playing.

"You guys didn't ..." Bill started to say until she cut him off.

"Shut up and sit down," she ordered.

She pushed him down into an old wooden kitchen table chair. She leaned over him brushing his chest with her own. He took a deep breath closing his eyes and smiling. Then he heard a click. 

"What the ...?"

His hands had been secured to the chair by a pair of very real handcuffs. 

"What can I say? I commit."

"I don't know about this."

"Relax; everything's going to be OK. In fact I really think you might even enjoy it."

As she said these last words she whispered them softly into his ear seductively. Then she playfully kissed his ear lobe sucking on it a little. He gasped. Are strippers allowed to do that? Oh who cares? 

"Now before we begin," she said, "there's one last thing we need to do."

"What's that?"

"Watch."

She stood up and sauntered over to Luke and took his hand leading him over to the sink in the kitchenette. She gestured for him to sit up on the edge of the sink facing her. She bent over him pushing his hands behind him before ... click. Luke went to move his arms but found one handcuffed to the sink faucet. 

"What?"

But she didn't answer instead she went over to Mark and led him over to the bedroom door before handcuffing him to the doorknob. 

"Hey!"

Then she moved on to Tony whom she shoved onto his back on the coffee table handcuffing his arms around one of the legs.

"Uh, guys."

But no one helped. They were too busy watching her push Cain to the ground and handcuff him to a couch leg. Then she turned on Johnny whom she cuffed to a floor lamp. That just left Talon. He was handcuffed to a rocking chair, to it not in it. Satisfied with her work she returned to Bill.

"Now, we won't be disturbed."

She kicked off one shoe and it landed at Talon's feet. Then off went the other shoe which landed somewhere near Mark. Then she tossed her hat over to Luke. All the while she gave Bill one hell of a lap dance. She unbuttoned her pants slowly, then moved to her shirt. It was a slow but beautiful process. She whipped off her pants and tossed them - right onto Cain. Smiling she pulled off her shirt and threw it up in the air. It landed on Tony. Next she tossed her bra onto Johnny. It was then she really got to work. She gyrated sexually in Bill's lap rubbing her tits in his face. He loved every minute of it. 

Soon the song stopped and she got up. She set about unlocking everyone's handcuffs. She started with Talon whose ass she grabbed.

"Your girlfriend's very lucky."

"Thank you," he said confused.

She then released Johnny hugging him tight. Moving on she freed Cain rubbing her hands all over his chest. Tony was next with a squeeze of his junk. Then she set Mark free rubbed her nose against his playfully. Finally she freed Luke kissing him full on the lips. Each time she did something like this she looked back at Bill smiling as if she were trying to make him jealous. But that was crazy right?

"What about me?" he asked.

"Oh I'm not done with you yet."

She sexually strolled back over to her little captive. 

"You'll be staying there a little longer," she teased.

"Oh come on," he started.

"Enough talk," she breathed.

She left the apartment but quickly returned with a red ball gag.

"Oh my god."

"Open up."

Bill shook his head no.

"Billy, open up."

"My name's Bill ... mph."

As he spoke she shoved the ball into his mouth and strapped it down tight.

"There we go, much better."

She walked over to the fridge.

"Now, who wants a drink?"

The boys all cheered, well all but Bill of course. She handed everyone a Red Solo Cup. They laughed and drank for several more hours as Bill squirmed. After a while the late hour got to them and all the others fell asleep. Roxie sat down on Bill's lap and removed the gag.

"OK, Billy, let's talk."

"What kind of a stripper are you?"

"A very special one, so what do want to know?"

"What's your name?"

"Roxie."

Chapter Two: There's Just Something About Roxie

"So, you're friends are clearly done for the evening," Roxie cooed, "That gives us plenty of alone time."

She ran her hand seductively over Bill's face.

"You're very hands on for a stripper," he told her.

"Have you seen very many strippers?"

"No."

"Then how would you know?"

"Good point."

"You're right though ..." she said leaning back against his chest, "... I do like to ..." she began to walk her fingers up his chest, "... touch."

Bill swallowed hard. That seemed to make Roxie smile.

"Do I make you nervous?"

"Nervous? Nah, being tied up by a stripper's a daily occurrence for me."

"Oh ho, little Billy's got a sense of humor."

She leaned down and looked lustily into his eyes, "I like that."

She gently kissed his lips. 

"You know what?"

"What?"

"I think we're gonna be at this for a while so why don't we talk a little about ourselves. You go first, Billy Boy."

Not where he thought was going but what the hell.

"Not much to tell really. I'm an only child, average student, not much of a partier."

"Could have fooled me."

"Oh this? This is all their doing. I'd been much happier with a quiet night in."

"A real homebody, huh?"

"I guess so. I mean I like to go the movies, shopping, and theme parks stuff like that. But for the most part I'd prefer to be home than out partying."

"I can tell."

"What about you?"

"Me?"

"Yeah, tell me a little about yourself."

"Where do I begin? With the uncle who couldn't keep his hands to himself? With the mother who died in childbirth? With the father who didn't give a damn if I was alive or not? Like I said, not much to say."

"Wow."

"No one ever said a stripper's life was glamorous."

She shook her head.

"What am I doing? I'm ruining the mood and on your big day of all days and just when we're about to start phase two."

"Phase two?"

"Oh yeah, your friends went all out. We're gonna move to the club, they'll join us there when they sober up."

"Ok, you gonna untie me?"

"It's all part of the service."

"Cool."

She walked behind him and began to pull the chair across the floor and out the front door and into the back of a waiting van. Producing straps from a chest she secured the chair to the wall of the van.

"Don't want you falling over."

She locked the doors after her and starting the van up drove off into the night.

"How long until we reach the club?" he asked.

"You're so naïve, letting a complete stranger tie you up and load you into a van with no witnesses. We're not going to any club, never were. Your friends never hired me."

"What's going on?"

"You'll see soon enough."



Kidnapped by a Stripper: Pt. 02



The old van puttering down the road was so common no one who would have seen it that night, if any had been out, would have never guessed anything was wrong. Though they would have thought it strange when it pulled into the parking lot of The Back Room, the old strip club had closed down almost as soon as it opened. No one went there anymore. Well almost no one. 

The van pulled to a stop with the back door almost touching the door to the club. Roxie climbed over the seat to face her 'guest'.

"Alright now I gotta make sure you're nice and quiet until I get you inside."

"Good luck with that."

She reached under the driver's seat and produced a bright red ball gag. 

"Oh crap."

Roxie quickly pulled the chair out of the van and into the club a gagged Bill grunting in protest all the way. She locked the door back then drug the chair down the short hallway into the main club. The fickle dance of time had not been kind to the old girl. A fine layer of dust covered everything in the building. The chairs were coming apart and the roof was starting to crack.

"I know it's not much but I call it home."

She sat down on Bill's lap. 

"You know something kid, you're heavier than you look."

He grunted indigently at this slight. 

"Oh don't worry Billy Boy I'm sure you'll shed some pounds when I get you out of this chair."

His eyes lit up at this.

"Now don't get too excited there sweetie I'm not letting you go until I get what I want. I'll wait till tomorrow to start that part of our game. Until then it's late and you and I need to get some sleep." 

She walked to the bar and returned with a handgun. Bill's eyes widened with terror. 

"Do what I say and I won't have to use it."

She unlocked his hands then just as quickly locked them back behind his back. She looped her arm through his and led him to the stage where a mattress had been laid out. As he stared at it confused she shoved him from behind falling face first onto it. Before he could react she hopped onto the makeshift bed herself and pulled him close until they were face to face. 

"Better sleep up we have a big day ahead of us tomorrow."

And with that she kissed him on the gag, giggled, and fell straight to sleep. It took several more worry filled hours before an exhausted Billy could.

Chapter Four: Make the Call

The sun peeked above the horizon the next morning. Billy awoke to find he was alone, bound, but still alone. This did not last long. 

"Honey I'm home!" 

Roxie returned wearing sandals, cut off jean shorts & a daisy duke style tied top around her ample bosom. 

"Sorry to ditch you like that but I had to dump that van and anything else that could let anyone find you here. On the bright side I stopped and got you some doughnuts."

She pulled the gag from his mouth. 

"Why are you doing this?" he asked weakly. 

"I live in this hell hole; you really need to ask?"

"But ..."

She shoved a doughnut into his open mouth. 

"You may be cute but you need to be quiet for a while."

She pulled him roughly out of the hammock right up against her. 

"Well if you wanted to get closer all you had to was ask."

She drug him over to the main stripper pole on the stage and propped him up against it. She reached down and produced a bundle of her belts. She then proceeded to wrap them around his body securing him to the pole. 

"There you go, perfect."

***

The boys awoke with a pounding headache. What the hell happened last night? And where was Bill? Oh God, they lost the birthday boy. They all tried to run - somewhere - at once. And at once they all came to the painful realization that they had been handcuffed. What was going on?

Suddenly the front door opened. In walked five gorgeous women all of whom wore nothing but skimpy lingerie. 

"Roxie was right," one of the girls said, "these boys look like fun."

***

After he swallowed his last bite of donut she taped his mouth shut again.

"Perfect."

A cellphone rang on a nearby table.

"Right on time."

She grabbed the phone and began chatting away. As she did she stood with her ass over his crotch. To make matters worse she began bobbing up and down as she spoke. The feeling was electric. 

"Thanks, keep me posted."

As she hung up she turned to face him.

"That was some of the other girls who used to work here. They've taken care of your friends, so no one will come looking for you for a while. Tonight I'll make my ransom call little man, until then ... I'm gonna watch some TV."

She then skipped out of the room. About lunchtime she walked past him and out the door, returning later with a delicious smelling paper bag. She walked right past him into the office. God he was hungry. Suddenly she returned and unfastened him from the pole and drug him into the office after him. 

She plopped down onto the couch pulling him into her lap. 

"Let's eat."

She pulled a burger from the bag and began gently feeding him almost like a mother and child. Tapping his mouth shut again she nestled back into the couch with him and turned on the TV. It took him a minute to realize what he was seeing. It was porn! She was watching porn!

In fact she spent all afternoon watching porn. Now Bill was no prude but he'd never watched porn with anyone else. Let alone the sexiest woman he'd ever seen who was holding him tied up in her lap. As the scenes got more and more intense so did her rubbing of his bound body. 

When they finally returned to the main club it was nighttime again. 

"Time to make that call."

***

Carla Maxell was your typical upper middleclass suburban housewife. She was sweet, caring, and trusting to a fault. She had no idea her husband Victor had been cheating on her for years. If she had she would have divorce his ass. If that happened the prenup would leave him with nothing. 

It had been almost a day since she'd last seen her son Bill. Something was terribly wrong. He was never gone this long without calling. 

"We need to call the police," she told Victor.

"Don't be stupid, he's 21 now, he's probably just out partying and lost track of time."

The phone rang. Carla snapped up the receiver. 

"Bill?"

***

"No, no," Roxie teased, "but Billy's right here."

She had him lying in the hammock again. This time however she was lying on top of his legs wrapped around him, arms too. She held the phone up over his shoulder with the speaker on. Bill tried to moan for help. 

"Who is this?" Carla asked.

"This is the woman who kidnapped your son."

"What?"

"Say hello Billy."

She pulled off the gag.

"Mom!"

"Bill!"

The gag went back on. 

"The deal is simple: your son for three million dollars," Roxie explained, "I will call again in 24 hours."

She hung up. 

"Ready for another day together, Billy?"

As he whimpered away she started mockingly kissing him on his gag. 

Chapter Five: Phase 3

After an hour Roxie gave up her ferocious kissing assault. 

"Time to take this to phase three."

There was a phase three! God, this nightmare was never gonna end. 

***

His son, they had kidnapped his son? Whoever these sons of bitches were Victor Maxell would make them pay. No one embarrassed him like this. His cellphone rang.

"Whoever this is I don't have time for this now."

"What, no time for an old flame?"

"Roxie?"

"Hello Victor."

"You're behind this?"

"This is what you get for leaving me."

"You stupid little bitch let my son go."

"I will after your wife pays the ransom tomorrow and if you hold up your end."

"My end?"

"I will tell your son everything. He will tell your wife everything. You will lose everything."

"What do you want?"

"Three million, seven hundred, eighty five dollars."

"That's ..."

"... the little slush fund you set up for me and your other little distractions. You're gonna transfer it to my account in one hour."

"And if I don't?"

"I call your wife refusing to release your son and tell her exactly why."

***

Roxie hung up and went back to lying on Bill. 

"I bet you have plenty of questions. We have some time to kill, let me tell you the whole fun little story."

***

Pricilla sat on the couch pouting. Why hadn't Talon called her all day? He was off with some other woman, she knew it. He always denied it but deep down she knew it was true. She didn't know why she got this way. She was a beautiful shapely woman with long wavy red hair and firm full breasts. There was no reason for him to cheat on her. The doorbell rang.

"Coming!"

Opening the door all she found was Talon. He had was shirtless and ties to a two wheeled dolly. His face was covered in lipstick prints and red tape covered his mouth. On his chest was a note that read "I've been a very bad boy."

"Oh you have, have you? Well I'm gonna make damn sure you live to regret it."

She grabbed the dolly and wheeled him into the house locking the door behind her. 

***

The girls laughed. They had so much fun getting Talon ready for his little playdate. Roxie had told them just what to do to get Pricilla all hot and bothered. They had all worked together at the Back Room in the day and had stayed close even after it closed down. So when Roxie asked them to help her stall for her little scheme they jumped at the chance. 

And as reward they got twenty four hours to do whatever they wanted with the boys. Speaking of the boys Bill's little friends were tied up in the floorboard of the rented limo with purses over their heads. Pulling into the garage of a vacationing family they each grabbed and boy by the arms and led them into the house. 

"Ready?" the lead girl asked.

"Ready!" the others squealed.

They all took off in all directions. 

***

"And that's why I've kidnapped you," Roxie finished. 

Her cellphone pinged. 

"Ooh, I've got mail."

Giggling she grabbed the phone off the floor and began typing. 

"Good news, your father transferred the funds. That means this time tomorrow you're a free man. Unless of course I just decide to keep your sweet little ass all for myself."

He could tell she was joking but there was something in her voice that left him with little doubt that if she wanted to she would.



Kidnapped by a Stripper: Pt. 03



Chapter Six: First Dates

In the bathroom of the previously empty house Luke lay in the bathtub where he'd been left hours earlier. One of the women entered. She was a tall brunette with long shapely legs and full heavy breasts. All she wore was a loose red robe. 

"Hi there, I'm Laura."

She sauntered over and leaned over the top grinning like a cat looking at a canary. She climbed over him to lounge on the other end of the tub bracing herself up against the wall. 

"You wanna play?"

The horny boy, his predicament all but forgotten, nodded vigorously. 

"Well you have to earn it first, Big Boy."

She began to rub her foot lazily over him settling back. 

"Ooh, that feels good."

***

Mark lay on the living room floor in front of the couch. Above him sat one of the girls, whom he'd heard called April. Her long dyed blond hair framed her fierce yet sexy face as she looked down at him. She had changed into a shapely black dress for this. She rubbed her bare feet all over his face as he squirmed in protest. 

"What's the matter, don't like the smell? Well when I'm done with you you're gonna love it."

***

In the master bedroom Tony lay on the bed. His legs were tied together and tethered to the foot of the bed. His arms were stretched out and tied to the headboard. A large slab of black tape covered his mouth. Lying on top of him was Georgia. Younger than the other strippers she was a lean brunette with tight pert breasts. She was wearing a red and white patterned dress she'd stolen. She stretched out and began kissing him on his face.

"See this isn't so bad is it?"

***

Across town Bill lay in his hammock under a sleeping Roxie. Looking at the front door he could see the sun starting to rise. This marked the beginning of the second day of his captivity. Tonight his parents would pay her ransom and then Roxie would let him go, wouldn't she?

"Good morning, Baby."

She kissed him on his bound mouth. He was starting to feel sickened. Not by the fact that this beautiful woman kept kissing him but by the fact that the more his kidnapper kissed him the more he liked it. 

"This is gonna be our last day together so I say we do it right."

She lay there seemingly lost in thought. 

"I know you and I need to go on a date. But what to do? There are so many choices to choose from. I know we'll do all of them!"

***

Back at the house, down in the den, Johnny sat on the floor. He lay on the floor with his feet tied together and his hands tied together behind his back. A bright red ballgag was shoved into his mouth. One of the girls Celeste, a stunningly slinky Latina, sat above him on the brick ledge in front of the fireplace. From his place on the floor Johnny had a wonderful view of her naked body. 

She started pinching his cheeks with her sexy little toes. 

"Ooh you've got the cutest little cheeks," she teased, "I just wanna pinch them right off."

He began breathing heavily and tried to wriggle free.

"Stop that, you love this."

She pushed down on him with her feet holding him in place. 

"You love this."

***

Cain lay in the floor of a home office. He could see diplomas on the wall above him. The leather couch next to him told him this was the workplace of a shrink of some kind. Rope held his legs together just above his feet and his knees. A strip of cloth was tied around his head as an effective gag. His hands were tied together and tethered to the leg of the desk behind him. 

On the couch sat Billie, a nude leggy blond who was clearly from somewhere in Eastern Europe given her accent. She sat there rubbing her bare feet over his crotch. 

"God, I've been looking forward to this."

***

Roxie had led Bill back into the office and onto the couch. She searched through the old box of DVDs she kept there finding the gushiest romantic comedy she could find. 

"Loveless in Lace, this ought to be good."

Bill groaned through his gag. He hated romcoms, this was borderline torture. She pressed play and jumped onto the couch. She looked over at Bill.

"Billy you need to get more comfortable."

She pulled him down forcing him to stretch out horizontally on the couch resting his head in her lap. As the movie played Bill found her lovingly stroking his head. 

"Oh Billy you'd better watch these guys, they'll show you how to treat a woman like me."

That idea gave Bill an odd sense of warmth. 

***

Talon's butt was sore. Pricilla has decided a good whipping with a belt was in order for his 'transgressions'. The problem was she hadn't stopped with just one ... more like one dozen. He now lay stretched over an ottoman in her room his arms tied to the feet as were his legs. He could just left his head up enough to see a naked Pricilla glaring at him from her bed. He could tell this was gonna suck. 

***

When lunchtime came Bill was in the hammock again. This time he was propped up by a pillow as Roxie joined him with a picnic basket. She pulled out a checkered blanket over them.

"Cozy, huh?"

Billy couldn't help but agree. 

She produced a couple of sandwiches and a bottle of red wine.

"What you're 21 now remember?" he playfully ribbed Bill. 

She pulled the tape from his mouth.

"Let's eat."

***

God what a terrible trip. All the kids did was complain. All his wife did was blame him. If he hadn't cut this trip short they would have ended up killing each other. He went in first carrying a suitcase. 

"What the hell?"

His house as full of the sounds of people making love. A naked blond was riding a tied up guy on the floor right in front of him. She looked up and saw him. 

"Company!" she shouted.

Naked women ran out of the bathroom, bedroom, den, even his office. What was going on?

***

Talon let out a sigh of relief as Pricilla removed the vibrator she had shoved down his pants hours earlier. She then climbed onto his bare chest.

"You seem to get into too much trouble out there. I think you're better off where you are."

What?

"Yeah, you're gonna stay right here from now on. This way I can always keep my eyes and hands on you at all times."

She began taking off his pants. 

***

The family sat tied up on the couch as the women led their boys out the door. 

"Police," Laura said into the phone, "there's a family being held hostage in their home. Yes, I have the address."

***

Roxie led Billie onto the roof. She spread out the picnic blanket and sat down the pillow. She laid him down on it and then joined him hugging him close as they looked up into the night sky above. Gazing up at the stars they got lost in their simple splendor. She looked down at her prisoner. His head lay on her shoulder looking at her lovingly. 

He was, he was starting to fall for her. She liked that. That was bad, she couldn't let him ruin her revenge. Not when she was so close. She abruptly got up. 

"I think it's time I called your mother."

Chapter Seven: The Drop

Carla sat by the phone her mind lost, not thinking anything at all. Then came the call. 

"Princetown Park, bench near the fountain, one hour."

A short time later she sat on that bench. A young man in a plain blue dress walked up. 

"Do you have it?" she asked as she sat down. 

"Yes, yes, where's Bill? Is he's safe?"

"Your son is just fine. Before I take your money I want to tell you a story. A story about a man named Victor Maxell and a stripper named Roxie." 

***

"OK Billie's on her way with the money," Roxie said hanging up her cell. 

She turned to face Billy who was tied back to the pole. 

"We've got a few minutes to kill and you've been such a good little hostage I think you deserve a reward. 

She left the room. Billy stood watching, wondering, waiting. Suddenly loud techno music started playing. Roxie strutted in from backstage in her pantsuit and fedora from her old routine. She began to twirl around the pole and Billy smiling at his wide eyes. She began to toss away her clothes piece by piece until that was left was her thong and bra. 

She wrapped around him and began to grind away. Looking into his eyes she began to gently kiss him on his bound lips. She slipped off her bra and rubbed her bare chest over his clothed one. Then came her underwear. She began to grind crudely against his engorged member. Panting like an animal she pulled undid his pants and pulled them down to his feet. Grabbing his underwear she repeated the process. 

Smiling wickedly she walked up to him until she had taken all of him inside her. As the music intensified so did her lust filled gyrations. She pumped and pumped until he couldn't take it anymore. After he was spent she removed the tape and kissed him deeply. 

"My turn."

***

Victor waited by the door as Carla arrived. 

"Well? Where is he?"

"Roxie will drop him off at Luke's house first thing in the morning."

It felt like the bottom of his stomach dropped out. 

"Roxie?"

"Yeah, you know the stripper you've been screwing for five years!"

"Listen, I can ..."

"No you listen to me Victor. Not only did you betray your vows you put your son in danger. I'm just here to get a few things then go and stay with my sister for a few days."

"Oh no you won't."

"Oh yes I will. You've got bigger problems."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I know about the slush fund."

"That has nothing to do with you, it's company money."

"I know that's why I called the board."

"You did what!"

"They weren't too thrilled to hear of your embezzlement. They're reliving you of your duties. The cops are on their way."

"They can't do that! It's my company's."

"Not anymore. According to your own bylines its Bill's now."

***

Panting Roxie looked into Billy's eyes. She loved the look she saw. It might have just been a bad case of Stockholm's Syndrome but she could tell he had fallen for her. If her plan has worked he would now be head of a multimillion dollar company. She only had a few more hours to finish this. She screwed him two more times leaving him panting and begging for more. 

"You wanna go again?"

He was too horny to even talk so all he did was nod. 

"Then I need you to do something for me."

Epilogue: And They All Lived ...

"In other news today Billy Maxell, son of disgraced former Lampoon Industries CEO Victor Maxell who recently took over as CEO after his father was arrested trying to flee the country after being charged with embezzlement, married his girlfriend of three years Roxane DuPar."

Victor sat in the prison common room staring at the TV screen. 

"Son of a ..."

While Billy ran his father's company Roxie reopened The Back Door and turned it into a national chain of high end gentleman's clubs. She and her friends, each of whom were now married to Billy's friends / business partners, performed there each night to a packed house. Everyone got what they wanted and then some. Except Talon, he never left Pricilla's bedroom again.