Kept Safe

by Lucy Wild

  When the door was unlocked, I was ready, my heart thumping, adrenaline coursing through me in preparation for what might be the only chance I had to get out of there. The door began to open and before he realised what was happening, I was out, barging past him, breathing in a lungful of air, ready to scream at the top of my voice.

  The scream never got out. His hand clamped over my mouth and as I fought to get away, his arm wrapped round my body, throwing me back against the door so hard, the air was forced out of me. I gasped, wheezing emptily as he glared maliciously at me. I tried to rise but he was faster, his legs hadn’t been tied down for hours on end. He got me under the armpits, dragging me back down the steps a second later whilst I tried to scream for help.

  He threw me down the last few steps and I yelped with pain. Looking up, I saw him slamming the door shut before he pounced on me again, throwing me onto the bed. “You should have behaved,” he spat, kneeling on the back of my legs, his hand rising into the air as I fought to free myself.

  “No,” I pleaded. “Let me go!”

  His hand whipped down through the air and landed on my ass, the sound of the smack echoing round the cellar. It stung painfully but I was too busy fighting to care. I tried to get free but he was too strong for me. He just kept spanking me, his hand slapping down on my ass harder and harder, his face cold, his mouth no more than a thin line. “You need to learn to behave,” he said, each word punctuated by another blow.

  I started to scream but he ignored me, pain coursing through me as he kept spanking. “Apologise!” he growled.

  “Please stop,” I begged, still squirming to try and move my hips to one side, anything to lessen the agony of what he was doing to me.

  “Apologise!” he snapped again.

  “Let me go.”

  “Not until you apologise.” Another smack, this time on the top of my thighs. My screams reached a higher pitch, the pain was unbearable.

  “Get off me!”

  He shifted position, yanking my legs a few inches apart. I fought all the wilder as he spanked the very tops of my thighs. Another inch and he’d touch a part of me I was determined to keep away from him. “Last chance,” he said, his hand high in the air. “Apologise.”

  “Go to hell,” I snarled, refusing to give him the satisfaction. Everything seemed to slow down, his hand moving through the air for a minute or more, my body turning but too slowly. His arm swung down and down and I watched it, unable to take my eyes from its inexorable swing. My body started to tense up, knowing what was coming but unable to do anything about it. My mouth was half open, ready to scream again but when it happened I was in too much shock to do so.

  His hand slapped down between my legs, a spank landing directly onto my pussy. It wasn’t the pain that got to me, though that was substantial even with the knowledge that he had pulled back the blow at the last moment, using a lighter swat than before. It was the sense of helplessness. I could do nothing about it. He had complete power over me and that was what shocked me to my core. The sensation of his hand slapping my pussy made the scream die away, made my skin crawl, made my heart stop in my chest.

  His hand didn’t move away. It remained in place, his palm resting directly on me. As I squirmed to try and get away from it and from him, it brushed over me and despite every part of me crying out in terror and despair, my body refused to react the right way. It whispered in a quiet but unignorable voice that it wanted his hand to stay there.

  I refused to listen. The very thought was despicable, disgusting, abhorrent. I didn’t want him to touch me. I couldn’t want that. “Apologise,” he said, his hand rocking slightly in place, his fingers kneading the flesh underneath him. “Apologise right now.”

  “I’m sorry,” I managed to mutter, desperate for him to move away from me, to stop that whispering thought that refused to leave my head.

  “There,” he said, standing up and brushing himself down. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  EIGHT

  JACK

  She looked up at me with her cheeks flushed, her eyes wild. She’d never looked sexier. I wondered if she could see how hard she’d made me. My hand had been directly on her pussy, the heat of it still lingering on my fingers as a reminder. I braced myself for her to try and escape again but she didn’t, she just sat up on the bed and pulled the blanket around her, hiding those magnificent tits from my view. I was going to have to fuck her and damn the consequences. I didn’t have the self control to keep my hands off her much longer. He should have known that when he gave me the job, I took what I wanted. That was what made me the best. I took no shit from anyone. But was this worth dying over? Was she? At that moment, I didn’t care about those questions, I just cared about fucking her.

  Not then though, not when she was still so angry with me. I’d wait until she calmed down, show her how much more fun she could have with me if she just relaxed a little bit, went with the flow more. It wasn’t all bad being locked in there with me. There was no need for all that social etiquette bullshit. She didn’t have to pretend not to want to be fucked, flirting and buying drinks and all that shit. She wanted me. Her body told me everything I needed to know. Her hips had fallen still when I’d slapped her pussy, after initially jolting in place. She hadn’t tried to move away from my hand, the heat from her coursing through me directly to my cock, making me want her all the more.

  “Why did you do that?” she muttered.

  When my eyes met hers, she looked down, her shoulders sagging. She was already starting to submit to me. This was perfect. “Because I trusted you to be good while I was gone and you were bad.”

  She fell silent, nervously mashing her fingers together. “It hurts,” she said at last.

  “I know, sweetheart,” I replied. “But it won’t happen again if you behave. Will you behave?”

  She nodded slowly. “Please, let me go.”

  “We’ve been through this. I can’t. You have to stay here so I can keep you safe.”

  “You call this safe?” she asked, a note of hysteria to her voice. “Naked? Spanked? Thrown down the stairs?”

  “If you behave, I won’t have to punish you.”

  She began to cry. “Why are you doing this? I don’t understand.”

  “The tears won’t wash with me, sweetheart. I’m here to do a job.”

  “A job? What job?”

  “I’m to keep you here.”

  “But why?”

  “Because there’s someone looking for you, someone bad.”

  She gave me a look.

  “Much worse than me,” I explained. “I’m a fucking angel compared to them. Now are you going to be good or do I need to tie you up and leave you in the dark for a few days to think about it?”

  “Please,” she said, spitting out the word in a panic. “Don’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m afraid of the dark.” She said it quietly, as if she was ashamed of her answer. She looked like the child she’d once been for the briefest of moments, but then the anger returned. “Just let me go.”

  “No,” I shouted, glad to see her cower away from me. “Say that again and you’ll get another spanking, understood? I don’t like whining. Now if you behave, I’ll go get you some clothes. Deal?”

  She didn’t move. I took a step towards her, taking her chin and lifting it so she had to look at me. “When I ask you a question, you answer, understand?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “I understand.”

  “Now are you going to behave?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then pile up those bits of plate. I wouldn’t want you to cut yourself on them.”

  I watched her bend over the bed, the blanket sliding off her. That ass of hers, dark red from my spanking, peachy round and just asking for my cock to slam into it. I moved closer to her, letting my hand move down to slide over it, touching her soft skin. “It doesn’t hurt too bad, I hope,” I said, watching for her reaction. She froze in place as I slid my hands o
ver her buttocks, feeling my way lower to her thighs, knowing she wanted me. She just couldn’t admit it.

  I traced a line along the valley between her cheeks, delving down and then sliding slowly up to her back. I stood up again, knowing if I stayed there any longer I’d end up fucking her and it wasn’t the right time. I couldn’t risk her spinning round and jabbing one of those pieces of plate into me.

  I watched her gather up the broken pieces before she turned and dropped them into my hands, her face pointing down to the floor. “Look at me,” I said coldly. Her eyes raised up slowly until they finally met mine. “You are mine,” I continued. “I will do what I want to you when I want to so you might want to think about how you speak to me. I can make your stay here very pleasant or very nasty. The choice is yours.” I held the bits of plate in my left hand. My right reached forwards and then I tweaked her nipple between my fingers, tugging roughly at it, enjoying the feeling of it stiffening, hardening as I rubbed it. “Understand?”

  She nodded, not taking her eyes off me.

  “Good. I’ll be back with some clothes for you.”

  I walked away quickly, unlocking the cellar door and stepping out. The instant the door closed, I leaned back against it, muttering, “What the hell are you doing?”

  I wasn’t supposed to do any of the things I’d done. All I was supposed to do was lock her up. That was the job. Lock her in the cellar and keep her safe. But I hadn’t expected her to flash me through her window. I hadn’t expected her to look so fucking good in a bikini. I certainly hadn’t expected to be so turned on by the sight of her naked body, by the smell of her, by the way she ached to submit to me.

  I knew I better get a grip on myself. My employer would find out. The job was at risk if I couldn’t keep my hands off her. The job wasn’t the only thing at risk. I had to play this carefully. I had to control myself. I was glad I was getting her some clothes because if I saw her naked again, rules or no rules, I’d be inside her and fucking her until she didn’t know what day of the week it was.

  NINE

  BELLA

  He was gone. I was alone. I shrank into the corner of the bed, wrapping the blanket round me, trying to make sense of what the hell was wrong with me. I was sick, that was the only explanation. Why else would I have felt the way I did? I wanted to hate him, I did hate him. But when he put his hand on my ass, my insides melted in a way that was so wrong, I couldn’t begin to understand it. I wanted that hand to stay there, I wanted it to continue on its journey downwards. It froze me to the spot. I was unable to move until he did. Even then, I was already hating myself. I shouldn’t have reacted that way. It was wrong.

  It was a long time before I moved. I had to shake the feeling that he’d left me with, the feeling that I wanted that hand back on me. I did it eventually by telling myself that he was responsible for me being put into this awful position, trapped in his cellar, without a hope of getting out.

  Or was that true? I climbed up off the bed as soon as I asked myself the question. Was there any way out of here? Something I hadn’t seen before. I tossed the blanket aside, ignoring the cold as I explored every inch of the cellar. There was nothing down there other than the bed. Not a thing. No windows, no old nails or loose floorboards. It was a concrete floor, solid walls with no hint of damp, no crumbling sections I could try and tunnel through. I couldn’t even reach the ceiling, it was too high above me. All there was I could see already, a bed, a mattress, a blanket, and steps up to the door. That was it.

  Demoralised, I sank back onto the bed, pulling the blanket tightly around me. I closed my eyes, my knees pressed to my chest. I rocked from side to side, whispering quietly to myself, “Hush a bye baby…”

  The song always used to comfort me when I was little. It’s one of the very few memories I have of my father, him singing that to me, helping me drift off to sleep. My only memory of my mother is of her looming over me as I woke up, reaching down as if she was going to grab me. “Hush, my baby,” she hissed.” Then a voice, I’ve no idea who it belonged it, shouted something I didn’t hear properly. Her arms yanked away and she turned from me, leaving me to sit up and wonder where she was going and why her face looked so furious.

  I tried to sink into my memories to get away from the awful present but it didn’t work. My mind kept going back to him. It was impossible to get him out of my head. I felt ashamed of myself. I shouldn’t have been excited by the coldness of his voice, I shouldn’t have been turned on when his hand settled between my legs, not after he’d so brutally spanked me. The spanking itself had done things to me, things that had never happened before.

  I’d responded on a level that I didn’t know existed inside me. It was hard enough to even begin to comprehend what the hell was going on. All I knew was that deep, deep inside me, a hidden part had come to life, a part that had been excited by what he’d done, despicable as it was. I’d liked him telling me what to do, I’d liked the commanding tone of his voice, the way he had touched me, even the way he’d threatened me.

  I felt like the world’s worst person. Society would judge me for how I’d reacted. It wasn’t right to feel like that about someone so awful, so vicious, so cold towards me.

  I didn’t have a huge amount of experience about sex. I’d slept with two people in my lifetime, despite my boasts to Claudia that I was as modern as her, flinging it around without a care in the world. The first person was a tentative fumble when I was sixteen, a fumble that was over before it began, him crying and apologising whilst I looked around for something to wipe the mess away off my thighs. That put me off for a fair while. Then there was Gary, or at least that was what he’d told me his name was. Older than me, got me drunk, got me to his, got me naked. I don’t remember much else about it but I do remember feeling sore the next morning.

  I’d wandered around the internet, hasn’t everyone? I’d explored what I thought I liked. But to find out I was reacting in that way to being ordered around, to being spanked, to being touched by someone who had so much power over me, who could have done anything, it was a terrifying thing to find out. I told myself I was in a horrific situation and I should cut myself some slack. Once I was out, I could think logically about things. For now, I had to survive. And if surviving meant doing what he told me, letting him do those things to me, well that was what I was going to have to do. I was a survivor. I’d survived most of my life without my parents around to help, I could survive this.

  I didn’t feel like I would though, laid there, rocking from side to side, trying to push away the thought of his hand sliding over my ass, my body still tingling at the memory. I thought the feeling would destroy me if I couldn’t get rid of it. I began to sing louder, “Rock a bye baby…”

  I wanted to cry but I couldn’t. Was I dead inside? I had been afraid for so long, it was like there was no fear left. Instead there was a numbness that took gradual control of me, spreading through me as I continued to sing. I felt like I was floating above my body, looking down on it and judging it harshly. You are bad, you are sick. You got aroused by him spanking you, by him touching you. Do you have any idea how disgusting that is?

  A long time later, I slept, though it was a restless sleep from which I kept awakening, hoping it had all been a bad dream. It only took a glance around me for the sinking feeling to return. It was real. I was trapped. By him. And worst of all, there was nothing I could do about it. No, that wasn’t the worst. The worst was the whispering thought that I wanted to stay with him.

  TEN

  JACK

  I knew it was a risk, leaving her loose down there. But I doubted she’d try and escape again. For one thing, I’d checked every inch of the place and there was nothing down there other than the bed. For another thing, I had her scared of me, I had her ready to submit to me. All I had to do was play things carefully and she’d be mine by the end of the day. It was an exhilarating thought.

  I slept well that night, thinking about her down there, having her company, having her ready
for me whenever I wanted to use her. It was a thought that made me smile. The next morning, I called in sick to work, putting on my best ill voice. It worked fine. I’d not been off before so nobody would mind me taking a day. It might have been outside the norm but if I went in, I wouldn’t get much work done. And by the time I was finished for the day, most of the shops would be shutting. If I was being honest, I also didn’t want to leave her that long. I had work to do and it was better to get it done quickly.

  I drove to the city centre, parking up in the multi-storey near the department store I knew best. It had the blandest clothes and the blandest customers, perfect for me. No one would bat an eyelid at me for buying women’s clothes. I’d just look like a father buying for his daughter, or a sleazy businessman buying for his mistress. Either way, no one would care.

  I started in the underwear department. It wasn’t easy, working out her size. In the end I decided not to bother with bras, she’d have to survive without one. I bought a dozen pairs of panties in a range of sizes from eight to fourteen. She had to be somewhere in that range. She was pretty small and her hips were slender enough. I went for plain black thongs, the thought of seeing her wearing them enough to send me out of that section to calm down.

  I did the same thing with the dresses, choosing a range of sizes. Then with some socks and a couple of pairs of flat shoes, I was done. She might not look like the most fashionable person on the planet but at least she’d be dressed. It would be a shame not to have her naked any longer but this would build the trust between us. Plus it gave me an additional means of punishing her if she misbehaved again. I’d be able to take them away as easily as I gave them to her.

  “Two hundred and twelve fifty, please,” the girl behind the counter said. She was looking at me with a grin on her face. I smiled back, no reason to be memorable. Just let her bat her eyelids and then forget me. It was the best way.

  I carried the bags out of the shop and back to the multi-storey. A short drive got me to a supermarket and I loaded up on food. Beyond sandwiches, I didn’t have much idea what she liked. Again, I could use what I bought to train her. Do well and be fed well, do badly and a spanking might start to look pretty nice next to starvation.