by S. J. Lewis
She was still hungry after she’d finished off the bowl. On impulse, he put the bowl down on the floor in front of her. She looked up at him for a moment warily…then at the bowl…then up at him…then back at the bowl. Finally her hunger overcame her and she bent over to lick the bowl clean. He watched her little pink tongue scouring the bowl for the very last bit of stew. When she’d licked that last bit up, she knelt upright again, her tongue tip flicking across her lips for any lingering taste. She looked up at him demurely, no doubt hoping for just a little bit more, please?
Well, she’d get more, but not right now. He leaned forward and gripped her by her hair. Short as it was, it wasn’t easy, but he used his grip to haul her upright and towards him. Leaning forward himself, he began licking the stray dribbles of stew off of her breasts and belly. She quivered and made little complaining noises, but one warning yank on her hair kept her from trying to pull away. He paid close attention to her nipples, licking and sucking them until they stood up, blushing deeply.
It was time to continue her education. Over the past few days, she’d been used roughly and often. She’d experienced hunger, thirst, physical exhaustion and pain. Now it was time to make her experience pleasure. He pulled her away from him, still keeping his grip on her hair, and stood up slowly. With both of them standing, the top of her head was just level with his chin. Her eyes were huge as she looked up at him. She looked worried about what he was going to do now. Good.
His free arm circled around her waist to pull her close to him, and he leaned down to plant a kiss on her half-opened mouth. She tried to draw away, tried to turn her head, but couldn’t stop him. He began forcing his tongue between her lips, and she clenched her teeth against him, whimpering. He moved his hand down to squeeze her cute little ass, then began to pinch it. Hard. She whimpered and struggled for a while before finally relenting. She opened her mouth for his tongue, and tried very hard not to respond to anything he was doing. Even so, when he pulled back from the kiss, her face was flushed, her breathing rapid, shallow and noisy.
There was a basic rule here about never fucking them in the kitchen. He let go of her hair and clamped his hand on the back of her neck again, more forcefully this time, and began guiding her back downstairs.
Her legs felt rubbery. If he hadn’t been right there to catch her, she would have stumbled and fallen down the stairs. His tongue-kiss had had a startling effect on her.
She was half-aroused, but those feelings were all mixed up with other feelings: Now that she’d eaten, even if it hadn’t been quite enough, her body wanted to sleep some more, but she was so worried about what he might have in mind now that the urge to sleep was pushed way back to the end of the line. His hand on her neck felt unusually warm and heavy.
He was surprised that she offered no resistance at all when he took her back into her cell and made her lie down on the mattress. She stayed right where he’d put her, face-down and not moving, until she felt him lie down next to her. Then she rolled half on to her side to look at him. She looked scared. He smiled at her and reached out to pull her close.
Not again! She thought, despairingly. But…there was nothing she could do, was there? He was much bigger than she was, and much, much stronger. All the same, her hands fluttered behind her in a blind and hopeless attempt to free themselves of the handcuffs. He began to kiss her again. She closed her eyes, and willed her body to go limp. She heard him chuckle.
Well, she was unresisting now, but also unresponsive. He wondered if she had any idea just how many times he’d seen this particular ploy. No matter. He gripped her by her hair again with one hand while his other hand began exploring her body. He began to push a knee between her legs. She kept her eyes closed, but he heard her whimper.
She had a lovely little body. His exploring hand slid down, cradled one round little ass cheek and squeezed gently as he took a nipple into her mouth and began to suck on it. He felt her body jerk, once, twice, and she whimpered again, more loudly.
NO! Her damned traitor body was beginning to respond to his touch in spite of the orders she was trying to give it! She squeezed her eyes more tightly shut, and tried to think of something, anything, to distract her. Mentally, she began running through the long and boring catalogue from the last dig she’d been on. And then his hand let go of her rump and slid between her legs. She tried to clamp her thighs together, but one of his legs was between them, keeping them apart. She felt his fingers run slowly through the short, curly hairs down there, felt his fingertips moving softly along her pussy lips…and then between them…
She made a high, keening, whining noise, and her body bucked in his grip. He clenched his fingers more tightly in her hair, used his leg to pin down hers, and moved the finger already inside of her back and forth, back and forth, and then upwards towards the pink nubbin of her clitoris. He could feel her growing warmer and wetter. She bucked furiously, her eyes shut tight, lips drawn back from her clenched teeth in a feral snarl. He was glad he didn’t have any parts within reach of those sharp little teeth. She was grunting with her efforts to get away from him. When his fingertip brushed against her clit, her back arched, and she let out one tiny shriek. He kept her pinned, and ran his finger slowly around and around. She bucked, she writhed, she snarled and moaned, and then it seemed as if all the fight flew out of her. She went slack in his grip, panting and huffing, mouth open to suck in more air. He smiled, and went on teasing her. She was getting very wet now, in spite of herself. He could screw her now, and she wouldn’t resist, but the point was to get her to want it, to want it so badly that she would happily participate. His finger went on, circling, rubbing, teasing. He trailed wet kisses along her belly, across her breasts. She bucked again, but it was a half-hearted effort. He heard her whining, between her pants and grunts.
Her mind was filled with a roaring red haze that made clear thought impossible. She realized she was grinding herself against his invading hand, her hips starting to move in a slow, insistent rhythm. Damn him! Damn them!! She ground her teeth together, trying to stop the horrible, animal noises she was making. His mouth fastened wetly on her nipple again, and something like fireworks exploded, ‘way back in her brain.
He was getting so aroused himself that it was an effort to keep focused on the job at hand. She was just about ready now, he thought. He withdrew his finger, sniffed it once for the heady perfume of her musk, and then held it under her nose so she could smell it too. When he did, her eyes opened. They looked blurry, unfocused, seeing but not comprehending. Her mouth flew open, and she snapped up his finger like a hungry fish would take bait. She did not use her teeth, but licked and sucked at his finger until he withdrew it. Oh, yes, she was definitely there now!
He let go of her and stood up slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on hers. Standing on the mattress, he began to undress. She writhed on her back, planting her heels well apart, staring up at him, whining, moaning, her eyes pleading. They would have to get a performance like this on videotape, he thought.
When he shucked off his pants, he noticed that her gaze shifted from his face to his cock. Her mouth opened and closed, gasping, panting. She spread her knees even farther apart, arching her body as if she could somehow reach him that way. He knelt between her legs, and leaned forward on his arms to bring his face to within inches of hers. Her eyes were huge now, but still could not seem to focus. Still, he wanted to be able to look into them at the very moment his cock pushed into her. He got himself lined up, using one hand, and began to enter her. At that very first penetration, her body arched again, so strongly that she was supported only by her heels and the back of her head, and she let out one brief, breathy shriek. He thrust himself deep into her with one powerful jerk that pinned her back onto the mattress. Her eyelids fluttered. From her opened mouth came a grunting “Ah...ah...ah...” sound, and then he felt her wrap her legs around him, trying to pull him into her even deeper.
She wanted him to go faster, and kept trying to use her legs to make him do so,
but after a few moments she settled down to match his rhythm. Her eyes closed. She was focused on nothing but fucking now. As small as she was, compared to him, her legs circled him with surprising strength. It occurred to him that if she weren’t handcuffed her nails would be raking his back right now. He kept to his own pace, slowly increasing the power behind each of his thrusts, driving breathy grunts out of her with each one. She started to slide along the mattress because of that, so he had to pin her shoulders down with his hands and use his own weight to keep her from sliding right off and on to the floor.
Now she couldn’t move much at all, but her head kept tossing back and forth, her eyes squeezed shut tight. She was making noises: Moans, groans and grunts, mixed in with a high, keening whining. Just from her face it would have been impossible to tell if she were enjoying any of this or not, but her legs were still wrapped around his waist, and they had a surprising strength. He kept on pumping her, harder and faster now. He’d wanted to make sure she came first, but she was making that impossible.
Pushing her down even harder, he slammed himself as deeply into her as he could. The sheer intensity of his ejaculation drove a deep grunt out of him…then another…and another. Under him, her whole body seemed to spasm, and her mouth opened wide for an ear-splitting shriek. Then she went limp: Bonelessly, utterly limp. Her legs fell away from him, and she lay completely still. Alarmed, he slapped her face lightly. There was no response. He thumbed back an eyelid, then the other eyelid. She seemed all right. Had she fainted? Then he heard her faint little snore, and he laughed.
She was still worn out from the long trek through the woods. He had just fed her her first decent meal in days, and then given her a long, hard ride. She’d hung on as long as she could. He was pretty sure she’d come, at the very last moment. But once that had happened, she’d fallen fast asleep again, out of sheer physical exhaustion. Well, that could be made to work for them. He was pretty sure elf-girl would be counting the days until her release, in the meantime steeling herself to endure whatever they would do to her. He’d seen that happen before. If they let her do that, though, she’d never really let herself go, and she’d never come back again. He prided himself on the number of repeat “customers” he’d had. He’d really like to have this one come back. He was sure she would make them work even harder for her the next time, and he’d welcome the challenge…and the eventual “reward”.
But…she could only count the days if she could see them come and go. If they kept her down here, where there were no windows, for a while, and kept interrupting her sleep, she would quickly lose all track of time.
He gathered up his clothes and started to get dressed. On the mattress, elf-girl stirred and rolled on to her side. He guessed that the handcuffs had been digging into her somewhere. Well, he’d let her sleep for a little while before letting Kurt or Lloyd come down to wake her up. Not too long, though. It was going to take a lot to break her down so that she could begin to enjoy herself. He smiled down at her as he finished dressing. Tonight, they’d take pictures of her to add to the wall. They’d make sure she got a good look at them, and also at all the other pictures.
He closed and locked the cell door behind him before heading upstairs. He wanted some coffee.
Chapter Nine
Day Nine
She didn’t know what day- or night- it was. All she knew was that she was desperately tired, still hungry, and still a little thirsty. They were feeding her, but always the same way: By hand, as she knelt or sat with her hands cuffed behind her, having to beg for each scrap. They kept her in this damned cage most of the time too. They had taken her out a couple of times, but only to let her use a small bathroom in another part of the cellar, or to chain her up and wash her down with water that was never quite warm enough, and rough hands which were brutally meticulous in cleaning her. She had intended to put up a fight when they finally took her pictures to add to that horrible wall, but when it happened she was too tired, too hungry and too weak to really resist. Now her pictures were up there along with those of all their previous victims.
It would not be quite so bad, she thought, if they would just let her sleep. But they kept interrupting her sleeping whenever they wanted, to use her whenever they wanted. By now, she knew their preferences, too. The big, black leader of the group seemed to like his sex straight up, most of the time. The bald, bullet-headed one liked to take her from behind…most of the time. And the skinny one…well, he wasn’t really skinny: More like wiry, put together out of steel cables…he liked her mouth…most of the time. She huddled on her mattress and shivered at that thought. There was still something they hadn’t done to her, even though it had been threatened on the very day they’d caught her. She remembered the words: “…tits, a pussy, a mouth and an ass…”. She was certain that they would do that to her soon. They’d done everything else.
“So…what d’ya think?” Ron asked. They’d been sitting around the fireplace, knocking back some beers and planning what to do next.
Kurt grinned toothily. “I think we’re behind schedule myself. We could’a had her back here a lot sooner, and started sooner.”
“I know,” Ron nodded. “But we’re here now.” He took a swig of beer. “Anyway, we gotta shake her loose somehow. She just doesn’t seem to be able to let go by herself.”
“Not all of ‘em do,” Lloyd chimed in. “How many ever come back? One in three? Four? It ain’t for everybody, but some of ‘em gotta try it just one time to find out for sure. For most of ‘em, once is enough.”
“That’s right.” Kurt shrugged. “Anyway, she ain’t doin’ a lot of fighting or complaining.” He chuckled. “Hell, I think she’s enjoyin’ some of it, whether she wants to admit it or not. So what’s the big deal?”
Lloyd laughed, a short, sharp sound. “I think our commando here fell in love with…what d’you call her? Elf-girl?…while he was tryin’ to track her down in the woods.”
Ron started to deny it…and realized just how hollow it would sound. He wouldn’t say he’d fallen in love with their captive…but something had happened while he was trailing her up and down that damned mountain. Elf-girl had earned his respect, at the very least…was that why it was now so important to him that she be one of the ones who would come back? Was he actually looking forward to hunting her down again? He shook his head. Maybe. Maybe.
He stood up. “Let’s do it,” he said.
She heard the door open, and wondered bleakly which one of her captors had come down here to use her again, and how they would want her this time. The thought gave her a nasty little thrill deep in her belly, and she fought the feeling down. Sometimes the experience was…enjoyable, yes. But they kept her naked and locked up in this cage like some animal…they treated her like an animal, and she didn’t like it.
She heard the lock turn in her cage door and finally rolled over on the mattress to see who it was, frowning. All three of them were there. The bullet-headed one was grinning at her, and he was holding…what was it? Black leather and bright, silvery chains. She had a feeling she would find out what it was soon enough, and that she wouldn’t like it.
“Stand up.” The leader ordered. She obeyed, slowly, trying to get as far away from them as she could without stepping off of the mattress onto that cold cement floor. It was pointless, she knew, but the act was instinctual. Bullet-head went around behind her, and the leader stepped forward and gripped her by her upper arms. “Hold still, now,” he told her with a smile. It was not a reassuring smile, and she looked into his eyes, trying to see there what they had planned for her. Behind her, she could hear the chains rattling as bullet-head did something.
He saw her eyes widen as Kurt slipped the heavy leather collar around her neck. It was thick, and wide enough to force her head up a bit. Kurt fiddled until he had it properly set, and then began buckling the two heavy buckles that would secure it in place. Elf-girl only moved when he gave each buckle a final tug. She remained still as Kurt buckled the leather cuffs aroun
d her wrists and then connected their short lengths of chain to one of the D-rings set in the collar. She did wince a little as she realized that her hands were now held well up into the small of her back. Maybe it wasn’t as comfortable as she might like, but her hands couldn’t interfere with anything now. The collar was wide and stiff enough so that she couldn’t strangle herself by struggling to free her hands, and neither the collar nor the cuffs interfered with her circulation. This was important, because she’d be wearing them for a while.
This was…different. Kimberley wondered what was going on. They’d never used anything this elaborate to tie her up before. Did they have something special in mind, or were they just trying out some toys? She wondered how she looked. This was the most she had been allowed to wear in days. What was next? A nice shiny chain leash to clip to her collar?
No chain leash was forthcoming. Instead, the leader took a grip on the length of chain connecting her wrists to her collar and used it to propel her out of the cage. His cohorts went on ahead of them, out of the room, but he stopped her in front of the wall. “Look,” he ordered. He stood behind her, holding her tightly by her upper arms so she could neither turn nor back away.
Kimberley didn’t want to look. They had tried very hard to get her to stand up straight for her pictures (Her rump still gave her a twinge when she recalled it) but all they had managed to do was to get her not to slouch quite so much. She looked tired, and angry and used. Her pictures had been set right at her own eye level, and the collar made it impossible to look down at the floor. It also made it almost as impossible for her to raise her head as to lower it, but her eyes were free to roam. They shifted away from her horrible pictures, up and to the left…
He heard her sudden, startled intake of breath, the tiny cry she immediately stifled. He felt her shiver. Peering around, he saw she was not looking at her own pictures, and followed her gaze up…was it that one? The woman in that particular pair of photos looked to be a little taller than elf-girl, and about the same age. She was more generously built, though: Full, round breasts, wider hips, and hair…long, long hair, rippling down past her waist, dark blonde with lighter sunstreaked highlights running through it. It was in a terrible mess, tangled and unruly. Whoever she was, she wasn’t one of his. He’d have remembered the hair if nothing else, but there was something else he would have remembered too. She stood fully erect, shoulders back, blue eyes staring into the camera with an “I-dare-you” look. Yes, he would have remembered those eyes. Did elf-girl know her? It was possible. Probable, actually, given her reaction.