“Yes, Sir,” she whimpered, her tone breathless and erratic.
If he didn’t know better, Connor would have thought his little captive was quite enjoying this subjugation, although he felt sure she’d never admit as much.
“If you disobey me on this,” he continued, “then you’ll be meeting the end of my belt. Which I don’t think you’ll appreciate.” He chuckled at the final sentiment and watched as her pale body shuddered.
“Now, what do you say, little one?” he asked, intentionally making his tone stern to startle the trembling woman before him.
It worked, and he watched as her body tensed all over again and she turned anxiously to meet his gaze. Her eyes were questioning, as if she had no clue what he expected.
He sighed, laughing to himself as he smacked her plugged bottom playfully. “I have just given you a gift, pet,” he told her firmly. “So, what do you say?”
Molly’s lips parted and he watched as her pupils dilated. “Thank you, Sir,” she whispered, lowering her gaze at her obvious humiliation.
“Better,” he responded. “Now tell me what you’re thankful for.”
Her face screwed into a tight ball at the question, and he gave her a moment to process the request, but only a moment.
“Molly,” he warned in a low growl. “Answer me.”
Her eyes snapped open and there were fresh tears as the words he longed to hear rolled from her lips. “Thank you for plugging my ass, Sir.”
Chapter Thirty-One
She was beaten. Or at least that’s how she felt. She didn’t even know how long it had been since he’d taken her, and in that time, she suffered the worst indignations of her life, all at this stranger’s hands. The butt-plug was the final straw. She could feel the thing fully wedged into her bottom, and she clenched her pelvic floor tentatively, wondering if the thing would come out even if she willed it.
Okay, she wasn’t really beaten. She knew that. Molly had reserves inside her that she’d never had to draw on, until now. But she sensed Connor was going to be the man who ripped right through her boundaries. Since he’d bestowed his most recent gift upon, or rather inside, her aching ass, Connor had left her bound on the bed while he busied himself in the room behind her. Molly peered back to watch him, seeing him setting up the small table and chair in the middle of the space.
“Up now,” he ordered, turning to meet her gaze.
She shuddered at the instruction, her legs trembling as she wriggled back from the edge of the bed. Rising she twisted to meet Connor, who was already on her.
“Do you know what I need from you now, pet?” His voice was a lusty growl.
Something about the tone made her gulp, and she noticed how her nipples tightened at the resonance. “To write, Sir?” she whispered, too embarrassed to meet his eye.
The unyielding plug in her ass was a constant reminder of her latest denigration, and it stung. Her bottom felt stretched to its bursting point, but worse than that was the abject humiliation of the event. This man had forced the thing inside of her, and was going to make her wear it for as long as he wanted. It was utterly mortifying.
“That’s right,” he agreed, circling her body as he spoke. “You have a lot to catch up on, little pet, everything from your meal earlier to that nicely filled arse. I wouldn’t want you to fall behind.”
Molly stood anxiously before him as Connor’s circle concluded. Her behind felt so full, it worried her. Were butts supposed to be treated this way? How long could she manage the damn thing? Letting out a small sigh, she felt her limbs tremble again. Even her own characters had never been subjected to such degrading treatment.
“On the chair,” he commanded, pointing to the wooden seat which awaited her.
Molly’s eyes fell over it, wondering how she could possibly sit still with this thing shoved inside her, and it was then that a new realization fell over her. She needed to use the bathroom, and soon. Gazing up at his stern face, her heart began to race again. Was Connor even going to let her use the facilities in this place?
“Sir?” she began, her voice quivering with trepidation.
Connor’s eyes widened, as though he couldn’t believe she had the temerity to query his command. “Sit on the chair, pet,” he insisted, “before I make you write on the floor.”
Molly pursed her lips, feeling her heart thunder inside of her chest. She didn’t want to push him on what he’d think was such a trivial issue, but she was getting desperate. All of that water might have helped her head, but it had done nothing for her bladder. “Please, Sir,” she tried again. “I need to use the bathroom.” The words came out in one long rush, and she braced herself for his response.
“Is this some ill-conceived plan to escape?” he asked Molly, directly.
Molly shook her head in a panic. “No, Sir,” she assured him. “I swear it. I just need to use the facilities. It’s been hours, and I’m desperate.”
Connor’s eyes narrowed, and his right hand gestured toward the floor. “Get down at my feet,” he ordered in a stern voice.
Molly was panting as she obeyed. Adrenaline flooded her body, but she couldn’t tell if it was the danger she sensed at his intent, or arousal at the instruction which inspired it. Her heart was pounding so loudly she was sure Connor could hear its insistent rhythm as she obeyed. What else could she do? If she called out, he’d gag her. If she ran, he’d catch her. She was out of choices.
His gaze followed her as her knees hit the floor. For the longest moment there was a heavy silence, and Molly could still feel the weight of his stare, although she didn’t dare to look up and meet it. She watched his feet move as they strode past her to the infamous dresser. Within a few seconds Connor had returned, and Molly eyed the metal leash in his hands.
“Okay, pet,” he breathed in an exasperated sigh. “I believe you, and you may use the bathroom, but there are rules.”
Molly pulled in a long breath, already dreading what maybe about to come from his lips.
“Rule one,” he began. “If you’re going anywhere, then you’re doing it leashed on your hands and knees. You’re my pet now, and that’s how pets get around.”
Her head was spinning, the weight of her bladder somehow combining with the plug inside of her to make her fuller and hornier than she’d maybe ever been.
“Look at me,” he commanded, and something about the power in his tone made Molly comply. His green eyes burned into her, creating a new flame at her cheeks. “Rule two. I’ll take you to the bathroom and leash you there.” He paused, allowing the words to register in her head.
“Leash me, Sir?” Her reply was raspy and unsure.
He nodded. “Yeah, leash you,” he replied with a smile. “I’ll allow you to use the facilities, but I don’t trust you to be alone. If you need the bathroom, then you’ll use it in front of me.”
That made Molly swallow, the act visible to her captor as she trembled below him. The thought was utterly demoralizing. After everything she had been through, the bondage, the spanking, the dog bed, he intended to humble her further in this most base way. She wanted to scream, she wanted to cry, but this was no time for either response. Instead, she squeezed her eyes closed briefly, accepting this new indignity as he attached the metal leash to the collar still at her neck. He reached for her wrists, releasing the ropes which bound her so tightly, leaving only the metal cuffs in place, linked by a second chain between her hands.
“Let’s go,” he huffed. “I want this second round of writing done before bed.”
Connor tugged at the chain between them, forcing her onto all fours, and as he paced from the room she was forced to crawl after him.
“By my feet,” he told her, and Molly could hear the glee in his voice. “A good pet will come to heel.”
She sensed his words were designed to provoke, but Molly was caught in his trap, powerless to respond without repercussions. Ensnared between her fear and her terrible yearning, she was literally trapped in his house, so she did her bes
t to obey, crawling as fast as she could until she was alongside Connor’s shoes. They passed out of the bedroom, and Connor turned right, leading Molly down a corridor she’d never been to before. The worn carpet was hard and cold against her palms. Her knees screamed in agony, but she hurried on regardless, listening to the metal of her chains scrape across the floor as she moved.
Connor pushed the door ahead open and weak light flooded into the space around them. Molly crawled forward into the new room, eyeing the outline of a free-standing tub to her left and a sink ahead of her. He drew her right, pulling her toward a toilet. “Up you get,” he ordered, tugging at her collar.
Molly swallowed hard as she rose shakily to her feet. She perched onto the edge of the seat, watching as he tightened his grip on the leash. The thought of him literally watching her made Molly angry and confused, and she turned away from him in disgust. Her head fell forward as much the chain would allow.
“Get on with it, pet,” he grumbled from behind her. “Show me you deserve to be treated this way, or else I’ll be forced to grab you a litter tray.”
He laughed at the idea, but the thought made Molly’s belly twist. Her mind raced at the concept, memories of the dog bowl flashing before her, and Molly knew in her heart that he absolutely meant it. He would degrade her further, and he’d probably enjoy it. She steadied herself, willing her body to calm down and give in, but it was to no avail. She was so tense and fearful, and at any rate, how could she go with him right there, beside her? Her ass was filled, and she was already under strict instructions about what would happen if that situation accidentally changed. Swallowing hard, Molly tried not to think about that scenario. “I-I can’t,” she stuttered, too full of alarm and shame to look up at him.
“Can’t?” he repeated, tugging even harder at her neck, and practically yanking her from the seat completely. “What is it, pet? Performance anxiety?” His tone was sardonic, but also dark, and the sound of it did nothing to quell Molly’s rising panic.
“Please,” she begged, finally raising her head to catch his eye.
Molly hated the sound of weakness and desperation in her voice, but there it was. She was desperate. That’s how he made her feel; she was completely out of control and desperate.
Connor’s tone was hard and unrelenting. “Last chance, pet,” he muttered, eyeing her severely. “Go now, or not at all.”
The knot of anxiety twisted inside Molly’s chest, rising into a low sob in her throat. “Okay,” she sighed, exasperated at the latest humiliation, but knowing there was no choice.
Closing her eyes, she willed her body to relax, ignoring the whirring energy which was radiating from the towering man beside her. This was officially the most undignified, horrifying thing she’d ever had to do. It made the dog bowl incident feel almost decent. She inhaled, counting slowly in her head, before she blew the air out again. Something about the action helped to calm her, and finally Molly could relax.
She knew her face was flaming as she peered around after the event. “May I wash my hands, Sir?” she gasped, cringing at having to ask permission for such a basic occurrence.
Connor actually tutted at the question, rolling his eyes as she awaited his verdict. “Make it fast,” he warned her, adjusting her leash so that she could shuffle over to the sink.
Once her hands were clean, she turned, eyeing him awkwardly. Connor stalked past her, evidently unimpressed with her performance.
“Back on your knees,” he instructed, already pulling on the chain connected to her neck.
She sunk to the floor again, her heart sinking with her body. Whatever euphoria had affected Molly when Connor had made her come in the kitchen, or when he’d captured her mouth in the bedroom, had well and truly worn off. In its place, the reality smacked her hard in the face. This was not a work of fiction. There would be no happy ending unless she made one for herself, and so far, Connor had only sought to degrade and humiliate her. Even more worrying though, his commands and expectations were growing all the more debauched. Connor had been calling her his pet for hours, and now she really started to understand why. That’s how he saw her – as nothing more than a pet who could write and obey him. She shuddered as the idea settled over her. Connor was actively dehumanizing her, and it was working. Now she just felt small and used, like a wilted flower straining for the sunshine. The question was, which way was the sun?
She was led down the narrow corridor without a word, and back into the room where the table and chair were waiting. One word ordered her onto the chair, and Molly obeyed, shifting awkwardly as her plugged bottom hit the hard wood. Connor unleashed her, throwing the metal to the bed behind her. She waited anxiously as he produced yet more chains, securing her ankles to the legs of the chair, before he rose to assess her.
“I’m going to get the laptop,” he told her sternly. “Do not even think about moving from that chair.”
Molly flexed her legs, now chained to the seat below her. How exactly was she supposed to move in this predicament? She watched as he paced from the room, apparently not waiting for her response. Drawing in a deep breath, she gazed out at the murky window ahead of her. Night was falling fast, and almost all of the natural light had faded. As though he wanted to reinforce the point, Connor flicked the small switch when he entered the room again, casting a dim, gray light over the middle of the space. He carried the device over to where she sat, and the screen flickered into life in front of her. Waiting was the document she had started earlier in the day. Her eyes scanned over the last few words, and she gulped as she recalled how utterly degraded and turned on she’d been with the hideous gag forced into her mouth. She fidgeted in her seat again as her mind compared it to the dildo now shoved into her bottom instead.
“Get writing, pet,” he purred, shifting his body to lean over her right shoulder. “You have a lot of words to get down and neither of us is going to get any rest until you’re done.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Connor watched her work from the corner of the room, the spearmint gum in his mouth doing nothing to cool his ardor. Her fingertips were almost hypnotic, the sound of their pressure on the keys mesmerizing as he eyed the woman chained in the center of the room. She barely looked up from the screen, her small frame hunched over it like it had some sort of protective qualities. He wondered idly how bad the position would be for her back, and then smiled to himself. How could he be concerned about the posture of a woman who he planned to leash and cage? It was ridiculous.
Molly worked on into the evening, fidgeting every now and then. Connor imagined how full her ass must be, stretched with the plug inside her, and his cock thickened at the idea. By the time he glanced out of the window to his right, darkness extended over the horizon. He rose from his chair to draw over the thin curtains, but his movement seemed to disconcert her, and for the first time in an age, Molly’s digits stopped typing.
Their eyes locked for a moment. Her large blue ones were wide, her chest heaving as they appraised his intent. Connor had no idea what she saw in his, but he hoped she liked the view as much as he did from here.
He approached her slowly, rounding her body to read the screen over her shoulder. Molly was near the end of her butt plug scene, and reading it second-hand aroused him all over again, nearly as much as the real thing had done.
“Why have you stopped?” He whispered the question past her nape, watching as she shivered in response.
“I-I…” There was hesitation as she twisted to face him. He watched as heat collected in her face. The fact that she could find this embarrassing when she was chained naked to a chair made him smirk.
“What’s wrong, pet?” he cooed from just behind her shoulder. “I’ve given the privilege of communication this time. I’d suggest you use it.”
Molly swallowed at his tone, the implication in his words apparently obvious. If she didn’t speak when requested, she’d find herself gagged again. He nodded at the panic in her eyes, wanting to reinforce the point.
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“Nothing, Sir,” she replied, her focus returning to the screen once more. “There’s nothing wrong.”
“Good,” he answered. “Then hurry.”
Her fingers began work again on command. Their tap-tap-tapping filling the room as she typed. Connor stayed in place for a moment, pretending to eye the lines as she created them, but in truth it was Molly he watched. The look of her was incredible, and he glanced up to ensure the tiny camera by the window would have a good shot. He was going to enjoy reliving these moments again and again at another time.
“What you need is some more decoration,” he mused out loud.
The tap-tapping fingers paused, and he heard her draw in a fast breath.
“Keep working,” he instructed as he turned and strode back to the place he kept all of his favorite toys.
In the bottom drawer of the dresser, Connor found just what he was looking for. Molly’s tits were wonderful, but they needed something to make them even more perfect. Grabbing the implements from their place, he knew he had just the thing to help. By the time he was back by her, the typing had resumed, but he could feel the weight of her stare as he towered over the laptop.
“A little something for you,” he said wryly, and without further comment, he leaned forward over the device and tweaked one, and then the next exposed nipple with his large right hand.
Molly yelped in response, her fingers faltering once again, and she watched on in dumbstruck horror as Connor’s fingers resumed at her breasts. Producing two clothespins, which had been concealed in his left palm, Connor ran the smooth wooden edge of one down the length of her right breast, before taunting the left in the same way. Her nipples responded beautifully, puckering into hard bullets at his provocation.
Taken: (A Dark Romance Kidnap Thriller) (The Dark Necessities Trilogy Book 1) Page 14