Six Masters Island - Perverse Intentions

by Candace Smith

  Tonight, she wore her barely-there green halter mini that matched her emerald eyes. She had dropped the ponytail she wore at work, and had quickly curled the ends of her waist length brown hair and slipped into some black four-inch heels. The added height would give her five foot three stature, a chance to be noticed next to her tall friends. After assuring herself that her makeup was perfect, she quickly drove to the club.

  Lordy, but she was horny. It had been two weeks since she had someone other than her own hand and toys to play with, and tonight she was on a mission. Hannah smiled as she held out her wrist to be stamped, indicating to the world inside the crowded bar that she had turned twenty-one a month ago and was now legally old enough to be served… instead of bribing people to buy shots to pour into her colas.

  She located her friends at a table across the dance floor, and realized it would take forever to get a drink from one of those trashy waitresses who always seemed to ignore her. “Fuck them,” she said under her breath, and she pushed her way between two ugly guys and maneuvered her small body up to the bar.

  Thomas was alarmed, at first. The very trophy he had been studying was now standing next to him, lifting up on her toes and trying to rise above the taller customers to get the bartender’s attention. He had been coming to Alden for several years to acquire things for the dungeon, and for the past few months he had become an infrequent customer to the club, but not so out of place as to be remembered. Most of the girls were chasing much younger men, so he was certain he would not be missed when he stopped coming in.

  Thomas pushed his empty glass to the edge of the bar, and that caught the server’s attention quicker than the impatient girl who had resorted to practically jumping to get noticed. Her breasts jiggled enticingly in her low cut halter, and Thomas raised an eyebrow when the rosy tip of one of them briefly came into view.

  The bartender finally saw her, and Hannah gave a flirtatious smile at the cute guy… who knows, maybe he would be her lucky fuck tonight. Her face dropped when he scooped up the glass of the man dressed in black beside her. Hannah looked at the man with a disbelieving expression, but Thomas ignored her and pretended to be watching the ball game on the television over the bar. It was important that no one remember them having any contact.

  Hannah finally got her drink, and wormed her way back to her friends. Thomas had followed her pattern for a month, and he knew she would be ready for another conquest. If she got lucky, he would have to wait another week, because tomorrow was Sarah’s birthday and he did not want to make the forty-mile drive.

  Towards closing, he was irritated as he watched the girl dance and throw herself at the man she had targeted several hours ago… and then, it happened. A woman stormed between the couple, pushed Hannah aside, and began screaming at the man. Thomas could not hear her over the loud music, but it was apparent the man had a previous obligation. Hannah cursed back at the woman, but her quest for the evening sheepishly followed her adversary out of the bar, leaving Hannah to stare around the room for a replacement.

  “Fuck you,” she screamed after them. She had wasted all night on the jerk, and he had told her he was single. She scanned the much thinner offerings and realized that anyone worth chasing was already caught. Her eyes drifted to find the guy in black at the bar. He was a little old, but pretty good looking… he was also gone. “Just fucking great,” she seethed, and she gathered her purse and walked towards the exit, pissed off and determined to make good on her plan tomorrow night.

  At least she had managed to get the creep to buy two of her drinks, so she mentally spent the saved twelve dollars. On her way to her car, her ankle twisted in her high shoes. “Perfect… just, perfect. What the fuck else can go wrong?” She studied the small run in her hose, and figured a drop of clear nail polish could still rescue them.

  Hannah thought about stopping by ‘Troubadours’ for last call, but she visualized the drunken assholes that would be left at the bar and decided to save her money. She kicked off her shoes when she entered her apartment, the sought after space on the bottom left corner by the trees that separated her building from the parking lot behind the office complex next door. The privacy was something she really appreciated.

  While she brushed the drop of polish on the small run, she listened to her messages. “Hey girl, it’s Brandy. I’m back, and I’m just going to take your shift tomorrow night, so enjoy the club.” Could tonight get any worse? She had offered to take Brandy’s slow Thursday night shift so that she could go to some football game, and now she was losing a Saturday night’s tips for being so nice… and she was not on the schedule again until Tuesday. Fuuuuck! She turned out the lights, and watched a stupid old movie until she fell asleep on the sofa, still in her green halter and injured stockings.

  With the beginnings of a change to his plan, Thomas had followed the arguing couple out of the bar after the man had abandoned Hannah. Their separate cars had pulled into a driveway a few miles from the club, and Thomas watched the man slam his door, not bothering to lock the car while he tried to calm his furious girlfriend. Whatever he said must have worked, because the lights in the house went out half an hour later.

  Thomas checked his watch, and drove to the parking lot beside Hannah’s apartment. He opened his trunk, removed his tools, and hid in the trees until only the gray light from the television shimmered through her curtains. Through the inch gap in the drapes, he saw her sleeping on the couch. Her bedroom was on the side of the apartment by the trees, and he had seen her open her window at night. This evening it was shut, but he knew she had not bothered to lock it, and removing the screen and slipping inside was easy.

  The screams from the horror flick had become a constant noise in the background of her dreams. It took Hannah a moment to realize the weight on her chest was real, and she opened her eyes in alarm as a round sponge was shoved into her mouth. She recognized the man from the club… the one who was sitting at the bar. Her arms were pinned under his legs as he knelt on top her and she gripped at the couch cushions and kicked.

  Her legs were too short to reach and sweep anything off the table, and she screamed behind the gag until her throat was sore. The man was quiet and kept staring down at her with creepy black eyes while he buckled the gag behind her head. He held some handcuffs up in front of her and smiled, and Hannah banged her head into the pillow, shaking in angry terror and crying.

  He was incredibly strong, she realized, and he grabbed hold of one of her wrists and snapped a cuff onto her. Holding the loose end of the cuff and her other wrist, he rose, and her feeble attempt at striking out with her legs was interrupted when he wrenched her shoulder and turned her onto her stomach.

  Oh god… oh my god, help me somebody. The cuffs were clicked together on her back and she felt his hand slide down one of her nylons towards her ankle. Hannah screamed and kicked blindly, but she felt him grab her leg, and another cuff clicked into place. Her dress rose up her hips, exposing her bottom and the top of the lacy thong with the strip buried deep in her ass. The man bent her leg towards her bottom, and he looped the loose cuff through her secured wrists, and then caught her other foot. She felt the metal dig into her ankle as he captured her last limb and hooked it into the other bracelet.

  Hannah lay on the couch, bowed into a slight arch with her ankles and wrists secured together, and she wailed behind the gag and tried to see the man through the curtain of hair covering her eyes. She thought she heard her bedroom window being closed and a slight thump as the sticking lock was pushed into the latch. The lock was hard to secure, and she had a screen, so she rarely risked bruising her palm to slam it under the bar.

  The large man came back into the room, turned off a camera that he had placed on the table beside her, and pocketed it. After a quick search, he approached her with her shoes and small purse in one hand. He took out her keys, and Hannah hoped he would not look deeper, under her makeup bag and wallet.

  Her cell phone… it was in her purse, and the weight of it always
irritated her as it sunk to the bottom. Maybe she could figure out a way to get to it. Even with her hands caught behind her, she knew she could manage to dial nine one one… and they had GPS and stuff to find her.

  His hand reached under and grabbed the connecting links of steel, and he lifted. Hannah felt disoriented with the swaying as her shoulders, and her thighs screamed at holding her weight. God, it hurt… and she tried not to swing and strain the ripping muscles even more. She continued to sob, and was distressed that the sounds barely made it to her own ears. He turned off her television, and holding her shoes and purse against his side with his arm so that his hand with the keys was free, he opened the door and carried her out, then turned and slid the dead bolt in place.

  Hannah realized that no one would know she had been taken from her apartment. Hell, it might be until Tuesday, until she did not show up for work, before she was missed. The neighbors would remember that her car had not moved, but that they had seen her before being dropped off in the morning, disheveled and carrying her heels and still in the party dress she had worn to the club the previous night. Hannah was not stupid. It began to occur to her how well thought out her abduction was, and she was beginning to understand she was not a random victim.

  She did sway and began to scream when she saw the open trunk. Oh god… oh no… please don’t close me in there. Help me… somebody… please let there be a cop cruising the back parking lot. But, there was no one else around, and when she was settled onto the rough carpet and she turned her head so that her tearful, pleading eyes looked up at the frightening man, he reached down and brushed her hair out of her eyes. His smile was terrifying, and it stilled her sobs for a moment until the night sky disappeared as the lid was closed.

  Thomas drove past the couple’s house again, and after turning her phone on mute, he crammed the shoes and purse under the seat of the man’s car. He figured people at the club would remember the disruption surrounding Hannah and the couple, and by the time the police figured out the lead was useless, there would be absolutely no way to connect Thomas to her. He turned his radio onto some classical music and ignored the occasional thumping he could hear through the back seat.

  Hannah had no idea how long she had been in the trunk, but she had almost peed herself with fright the first time they stopped, which seemed to be only a few minutes after she had been closed in the darkness. She sensed the car speeding up, and she had the feeling they were on the highway. Eventually, she was aware of the stop and go streets of a town, and then gravel under the tires as the car slowed further and finally stopped.

  The engine shut off, and a few seconds later fresh air surrounded her as the trunk was opened. The man picked her up and carried her to the back door of a huge house. Hannah could not get a true sense of it because it hurt too bad to try to hold her head up. One of her breasts had popped out of her halter, and it was being slightly squeezed into its companion by the strap.

  She was carried through a kitchen and then down a long staircase, and placed on a carpet by the legs of a chair. The lights came on and she blinked into focus a room with the most frightening equipment she could ever imagine. She shrieked and struggled in her bindings while the man calmly walked over to a cabinet, came back to the chair, and lifted her onto her folded knees by her hair.

  She was balanced in the awkward position by a hand gripping her chin, and she sobbed while she looked into the dark gaze. “I am your Master, and you are a slut,” he said. They were the first words she had heard the man speak, and the deep voice was as terrifying as his eyes. Hannah’s bladder let go, and she cried harder. The man looked down at the wet puddle, and his free hand untied the knot at her neck. He lifted her green dress over her head and dropped it on the mess, pressing into the wetness with his shoe.

  “There is no one in the house to hear you, but should you scream I will introduce you to one of the more restrictive devices you see around you. I want complete silence, slut.” She felt his hand reach around and unbuckle the sponge that had soaked up her saliva and left her mouth dry and her throat sore from her screams.

  “Pppplease… ddddon’t hhhurt mmme…”

  The fingers squeezed her jaw so tightly, Hannah heard the hinges pop. “Silence, slut.” She shivered quiet sobs, and her eyes widened when he began to wedge some kind of thick rubber ring into her mouth. Her tongue searched around the edges, trying to push it out, but it had sprung open behind her teeth and it was useless. Drool dribbled down her chin and onto her quivering breasts as she knelt in only her wet thong and rescued nylons.

  Thomas was ready to explode, and he had been stroking his filled cock since they had gotten onto the highway. How he had managed to control his need to slam into her for relief… his rod had been stiff since he climbed through the window at her apartment. He lowered his zipper and the girl tried to pull away at the size of him.

  “Come now, slut. Wasn’t this what you were chasing when you went to the bar?” he chuckled.

  “Oh… oh… eese. Oh, od… oh, od, oh,” she garbled, and her breasts bounced with her trembling.

  Thomas gripped the sides of her head and he threaded his cock through the ring. Balanced on her knees, she rocked forward and back in a delightful rhythm until he pushed completely past her squeezing throat and jerked his cum into the retching contractions. He pulled her head back until she swallowed it all, and then stared into her red eyes and smeared her dripping makeup with his thumb. “Yes, you are a slut… but, you will learn.”

  He blindfolded her into darkness and lifted her again, and he placed her inside a small metal cage in the corner and locked the door. She was shocked into the silence he had demanded, with drool and tears wetting the floor by her cheek. The man turned out the light, and somewhere in her mind she heard his heavy footsteps as he climbed the stairs. Throughout the next day she heard steps approach, but no one spoke to her or touched her. It was terrifying to lie cramped on the cold cement floor, and the hunger in her belly was nauseating.

  CHAPTER VII

  The slut’s initiation to her new world of acceptance would be slow and methodical, as he noted which lessons facilitated her adjustment. Humiliation… debasing the slut by removing even her ability to control her body’s functions… and pain, yes, always pain. His cock thickened, filled with power at the thought of the fearful, wide-eyed tears looking up to him with hope, at first to rescue her from the lessons, and then for the promise of her own climatic relief. Dominant Submission

  After breakfast, while Sarah stroked the slippery surface of her new robe, Thomas said, “I will take you down to see her, Sarah, but it will be a little while before she will be ready to meet you. Soon, I’ll want you to feed her, but don’t speak to her until I give you permission.”

  “Yes, Master Thomas.” Sarah followed them to the kitchen, and Thomas took a plastic bottle and filled it with one of those nutrition drinks, and screwed on a lid with a long, thin hose, and the three of them descended the stairs to the dungeon.

  The girl lay in the cage in the corner, and Thomas put his finger to his lips and pointed to a chair. Sarah sat down and watched in fascination, as her boys approached the trembling creature. She was already getting wet with excitement, and Sarah regretted not trusting Thomas when she learned of his plans to collect the trophy.

  Hannah spent a miserably long time in the painful, bent position on the hard floor. After only minutes of sleep, she continuously shuddered awake and began crying again. She imagined could still taste the man in her mouth, and her throat felt bruised from housing his thrusting organ. Her lungs had burned when he pushed into her like that, and at first she thought he was going to choke her, until he rocked her back on her bruised knees so she could gasp some air, before he plunged all the way in again.

  Once more she heard the door open and feet thump down the stairs, and she began to sob again. There were more people this time, but she could not see who or how many, with her cheek pressed onto the concrete, and the blindfold. She was sure that horr
ible man would be one of them… the one that had kept calling her a slut.

  “Here she is, Jeremy. I think she’s small enough for you to manage, but before we remove all the bindings, she’ll be well trained.”

  Jeremy looked at the crumpled figure in the cage, and his eyes narrowed as he followed the strip of thong into her bottom cleavage. What a pretty little ass she had, promising to be tight. “She smells.”

  “She pissed herself over by the chair.”

  “Well, let’s continue to have her stew in it a while, so she doesn’t do it again.” Jeremy wrinkled his nose. This one was going to take a lot of training.

  Thomas bent to unlatch the cage, and Hannah cried when she felt his hand grip the manacles and scrape her breasts as he dragged her out. “Let me get her fed, and then we can get her secured in more practical restraints.

  “Eeeeee,” she wailed, when his fist grabbed her hair to pull her up to her knees. Sarah sat across the room and watched Thomas lean her up against the cage, and then remove the blindfold and toss it on top of the bars. Through the draping hair, Sarah could see the small, youthful figure, but still had not seen her face. When Thomas swept it back, Sarah looked at the cat green eyes that were wide and red from crying. The girl was filthy, with debris from the floor and makeup running down her face, and Sarah’s pussy clenched.

  After glancing away from her frightening abductor, Hannah’s eyes focused on a terrifying man, and her cries froze in her throat. He looked like a ghost of the other one, pale and thin… even his skull could be seen through the black curls… but the eyes… the eyes looked like the other man’s… but, Hannah also saw that they shone with madness, just like Jenny Thompson’s… the old crazy woman from the mountain.