by Nikki Sex
"One must always be careful of the eyes, mon cher, and I will not let you be harmed. You are such a treasure, and you are my treasure for these few days only. I always protect what is mine, but I particularly cherish you."
"Thank you, Sir," she said, swelling with strong conflicting emotions. Prominent among them was the delicious feeling of being cared for, of being taken care of. So stupid, as she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, and yet…She took a deep breath and gave a long slow sigh. Her empty stomach, as yet unfed, growled. It wasn't even noon on the first day she had been taken.
From the time she had woken up in her little captive world, Elizabeth had been kept busy with so many completely new experiences her mind was still reeling. At some point today, Sir promised she would spend at least an hour with her husband, Mark. That would pass some time. But how would they spend the rest? Was it to be sex 24/7?
The thought of Mark brought more conflicting emotions. Elizabeth wanted to see him, hoped he was alright and loved him deeply. Mark was her very best friend, and knew all of her secrets - well most all of them anyway. She hadn't told him that she masturbated daily, or that she was having trouble climaxing during sex. But how could she talk to him about these things when he would take it so personally?
Elizabeth sighed. But what would he do when he found out that she was such a wanton slut toward their captor? Mark tended toward jealousy as it was.
How could she tell him? And the answer to that was; there was no way she could. Elizabeth swallowed nervously, imagining Mark's reaction. Talk about angry! She sighed. Their first year of marriage, with its long anticipated, ten day vacation in Vegas was probably going to end in divorce.
Book 3: Elizabeth’s Pain and Pleasure
1. A Secret from Mark
"Come, mon cher," Sir said while sitting with her in the bath. "It is time to eat. And after that I want to tie you up and fuck you once again."
At these words Elizabeth's pulse raced, her skin flushed, her pussy moistened and her breathing quickened – all signs of instant arousal that she knew her captor's acute and knowing eyes would spot immediately. Anticipation rolled through her body in a slow, thick wave of heavy sexual heat.
"I want to tie you up and fuck you once again."
Elizabeth swallowed. Just the suggestion of sex had her in an ephemeral buzz of hyper-alertness. This kind of vast emotional swing was something one might experience from caffeine stimulation - after three double shots in a row, perhaps. Her body was alert and more than willing, her mind was still in a daze. My God the pleasure that this man had wrought!
Her captor stood and took her elbow, raising her to her feet in the bath. Elizabeth, still blindfolded and naked, had her hands cuffed together in front of her. Her inability to see was a handicap, yet her captor - who she had been instructed to call "Sir" – was a bone-deep controlling personality. Thus, he was overjoyed to be in charge of her, guiding and directing her every movement.
This morning Elizabeth had woken in her kidnapper's bed, blindfolded, tied naked and spread-eagle. He had then tormented her sexually with a feather, nipple clamps, his hands, mouth, lips and tongue until she begged for him to fuck her. Sex with him had been the best she had ever had - except for one particular occasion with her husband. Or was she just being loyal, she wondered? But no. Nothing could beat that.
For the last hour or so her captor had taken her to the large bathtub and, with her wrists shackled together and restrained above her head, he had lathered up every part of her body. Yes, she thought. And although he has since rinsed the soap off, I am still in quite the lather. Over an hour of foreplay and I still haven't had a climax. Elizabeth frowned. Sir was amazing, but he was also a twisted bastard. I want to come! Why won't he let me come?
Elizabeth still had no idea what he looked like. The man could be cross-eyed, with a weak chin and bad acne for all she knew, but his voice, his hands, his mouth and tongue! Not to mention that expensive nutmeg, cedar and Brazilian Rosewood cologne. God he smelled good. How had her captor done it? Kept her in this astonishing sexual haze? She would have chewed off her own arm at one point, just to have his cock inside her, or to have some friction on her clitoris or pussy so that she could climax. Sir's rule was that Elizabeth could only orgasm when he said so – and she wasn't allowed to yet. Bastard.
Mind you, Sir had "allowed" her to suck him off. That thought made her smile, and she had to subdue a sudden impulse to giggle. Sir gave her his cock as if it were a unique and special treat, something she had to ask for, even beg for!
Well, she thought. His cock was worth begging for. Man oh man. Sucking him off. Yum.
To Elizabeth's great surprise she had found sucking Sir to completion just as satisfying as climaxing herself. Strange, but true. Emotionally she had an all consuming desire to please him, and that need had simply taken her over - and it was still there.
Her pussy clenched and clit throbbed at the strong recent memory. Elizabeth shut her eyes behind her blindfold, recalling the smell of him, the heat of his hard cock between her lips, the potent musky taste of his hot seed and the feel of him pounding into the back of her throat. She licked her lips, remembering the inexplicable joy she experienced when listening to his male growls of pleasure and having him thrust, frantic with need into her willing mouth. Her captor had used her body like a large, powerful animal in rut and what a wow experience. An enormous glow of satisfaction still buzzed through her from having swallowed every drop of his cum. It had felt like some sort of religious awakening, knowing she had given him pleasure.
What was that about? She wondered. Why was it so important to please him? Stockholm Syndrome, she reminded herself. It's the only explanation.
"Bon. Now lift the right leg," he commanded in that sexy French accent, maneuvering her out of the bath. "Just so, and here are two steps back down. One, yes, two. Good girl."
Sir moved her a few feet and then stopped, positioning her where he wished. Her captor seemed big on that, too: moving her around, placing her exactly as he liked. After experiencing his total domination all morning, Elizabeth had absolutely stopped fighting. Besides, she thought. Why not? He was a rock star sexually. Never had she had a more satisfying partner or so many orgasms in her life. A twinge of guilt momentarily touched her, but she thrust it away. How could she deal with that now? Mark was her husband and she certainly loved him. She had also had excellent sex with him but the truth was - except for that one memorable time - it had been nothing like this.
That fact would crush Mark. Elizabeth wondered what would happen after this was over, when she and Mark were set free. She clenched her teeth, resolved to never tell her husband what had occurred between Sir and herself.
Mark must never, ever know.
2. Resolved Not To Beg
Elizabeth heard Sir step away from her for a moment and then return with a heated towel, which he wrapped around her upper torso. She sighed, enjoying the warmth.
"You like this?" he said, with a smile in his voice. Elizabeth found herself smiling, too. Sir was over controlling, but he was also good–humored, and even mischievous. He sometimes reminded her of a four year old bouncing around in a playground, as he, like most children of that age, always seemed to be smiling. Not that she could see it with the blindfold on, but she could clearly hear it in his voice.
"Bon, mon cher," he said. "Time to dry this oh so luscious body of yours. Stand with your legs spread wide. I want to see all of your plump, swollen cunt." She did so, and to make his point, he tapped the inside ankle of her leg, nudging against her to make her move her legs even further apart. "Good. Now, stand straight with the shoulders back and the breasts forward." He took her cuffed hands, and carefully guided her, placing them on top of her head, ensuring that the connecting chain didn't knock into her.
Elizabeth reflected how quickly she had come under her captor's spell. Despite her own history of being stubborn, bossy and used to getting her own way, for some reason she felt herself to b
e quite unequal to defying Sir. From the very beginning, when she had first given in to his commands his manner at her capitulation showed neither surprise nor triumph. It was as if it never occurred to him that she would not comply. The man had never doubted that she would obey him completely.
Elizabeth felt herself flush, with shame or embarrassment, she couldn't tell. Because now I simply do as I'm told.
"Yes. Like so," Sir said, cheerfully. "Now you are open and ready for me. Because, mon cher, your body is mine for the next six days. Mine to do anything I can imagine - and I warn you, I have imagined oh so many things."
A number of emotions swirled through her. The man continuously kept her off balance. How did he do that? Create such a thrill of desire and curl of anxiety at the same time? That, and a powerful urge to please him.
Elizabeth's pussy pulsed and contracted with unsatisfied lust, something it had been doing without break for the last few hours. Sir had a rich male voice that just dripped sex. Not unlike her pussy was currently doing - and probably would be doing for the rest of the day, unless her tormentor let her come! For some weird reason being kept in handcuffs, and bossed around turned her on.
Using the warm towel, Sir rubbed her skin, starting with her breasts, delicately brushing them, over and underneath, drying them fully while touching them in a functional, yet somehow sensual manner. He moved to each arm, her flat stomach, the round of her hips and then he went to his knees to dry her legs.
Enamored with her newly shaven pussy, Sir spent some time there, playfully drying it, while breathing on her pussy and "accidentally" flicking her throbbing clit again and again. He spread the lips of her sex, carefully and completely drying each part of her. Utterly aroused, she ruthlessly suppressed her gasps and groans of desire, but continued to drip from between her legs. Sir chuckled often, wiping up any moisture and then admonishing her in a mischievous manner when he needed to wipe between her legs again.
Each time he acted astonished to find her dripping wet, with her arousal running down her thighs. Then he acted surprised and dried her again. It was becoming an old joke, yet he didn't seem to tire of it.
Ha bloody ha, she thought, trembling with sexual frustration. The man had achieved his own orgasm. Each time he touched her it was literally a breathtaking experience. Freshly shaven, the skin on her pussy was tender and aching, altogether much more sensitive. Sir was driving her mad.
To add to her torment, Elizabeth currently had an anal plug within her virgin ass. It was shaped like a small penis and was a vibrator, which Sir was currently keeping on low. Sir had cheerfully told her that it had ten different settings, including pulse. She had experienced pulse already and, oh man, had that ratcheted up her need. Never having had anything put in her ass, Elizabeth had originally objected, but Sir had inserted it into her back passage anyway - after a vigorous spanking. Elizabeth would never have guessed how hot something like that could be, both the spanking and the vibrator. With the butt plug vibrating merrily away, she just kept dripping, unsatisfied and aroused.
Sir moved around back to dry between the cleft in her buttocks, making her bend over, to ensure he reached every part of her body. He often tapped her butt plug and every time he did, a shock of desire rolled through her. In this position the vibrator in her ass massaged different areas, and once more she felt her arousal running down her legs.
Please let me come, her mind shouted urgently, Please! But she didn’t ask for permission to speak, nor did she want to beg. Not this time, buddy, she decided with stubborn resolution. It was too demeaning, her begging him to let her come. There was no point anyway, because Sir, for some perverse reason of his own, had decided to deny her a climax.
I'll just keep my mouth shut this time, she decided. I am a strong person, and I can do whatever I decide to do. And in this case, I absolutely refuse to beg.
Strong as she was, it turned out in the end that Elizabeth had no choice in the matter.
Because Sir was much stronger.
3. Bound for Lunch
As Sir worked he continued to touch her naked flesh, occasionally tapping her anal plug, or her clit, his hands making warm contact against her skin. They were proprietary gestures, lightly smoothing over various parts of her body, shoulder, neck, back, flanks and the round feminine curve of her buttocks. Such possessive little caresses, as he physically directed and controlled her.
"You are still so aroused, mon cher," he said. "Such a plump, needy cunt. It would take only a moment to give you the orgasm, but it will have to wait as it is time to eat."
She snorted, but said nothing. Sir had told her she had to ask permission to speak, but she never had to say what she was thinking. He always seemed to already know. Her captor enjoyed tormenting her. This was just a cruel little game of his that she would, for now, have to make the best of.
When she was dry to his satisfaction, he opened the bathroom door and guided her through. Instantly the heavenly smell of food cooking assaulted her senses and her stomach growled. His did, too, and he laughed.
"Sir," Elizabeth asked, "May I speak?"
"Yes, for now while we eat you may speak freely, mon cher. It is a little time off for you, you perceive. The lunch break."
Once inside, he put his hands on her waist and lifted her, picking her up and sitting her in what felt like an early American frontier wooden chair. But it was an odd chair, not padded and high-backed, and while she sat in it her feet didn't touch the floor. It seemed huge, as if it could seat a 300lb man. Elizabeth felt like a little girl in this big chair, and began to worry about daddy scenarios. Man, was she going to get spanked again?
"Put your arms on the armrests and each leg around the outside of the chair, mon cher," he directed.
This action spread her wide, which no doubt was his plan. There was little actual chair beneath her, so he had easy access to her pussy. Thankfully Sir had switched off the toy in her backside as they left the bathroom. It was not vibrating, yet it could be felt just there as she was placed down on the chair. This sensation created a pulsing awareness of her pussy as well. Elizabeth sighed, not wanting to think of sex. Right now she was hungry. Glad to be able to speak, she said, "It smells fantastic, Sir."
Sir moved to the ground and began to bind one of Elizabeth's legs to the outer edge of the chair with what felt like a soft, maybe two inch width of perhaps cotton material. Wrapping it tightly around her ankle, foot and leg, he looped it until her left leg could not move at all. While he worked, he said, "My staff have been in and our lunch is in the warmer. Today we have Poulet et Épinard, crepe with chicken and spinach. There are also vegetables, baguettes with fresh butter and creme brulée for desert." He laughed, and the sound caressed her nerves like a playful sensual treat. "And strawberries with hot liquid chocolate."
"Yum," she said. "Sounds wonderful, Sir." Elizabeth found herself smiling. It was the way Sir said chocolate. Kind of like "chalk –au –lat." It was so sexy, that French accent of his. So, she thought, he had a staff? Of course he did, he was wealthy. But they must be devoted to him if they ignored the fact that he was kidnapping people. But maybe they just thought he liked sexual bondage, and had no idea that he had drugged and abducted her husband and herself.
Sir chuckled. "I make you a large lunch, Elizabeth, because I intend to keep you working hard to serve my every desire. You will need your energy."
Well. No real comment to make about that, she thought and remained silent.
Sir had started on her right leg, binding it, too. Both legs were soon well constricted up just past her knees, leaving her thighs exposed.
"This is not uncomfortable, mon cher? Not too tight?" he asked.
She shrugged. "I can't move my legs, but it feels okay."
"Bon. You will tell me if anything I do becomes uncomfortable, yes?"
"Count on it, Sir," her voice was bitter.
He laughed and stood up. "Good. Now let me see your hands." He took off her hand cuffs, and tut tutted over the few mar
ks they had left upon her soft skin. He found a cream and gently rubbed it into the skin on her wrists, giving her a sensual hand massage in the process. Everything he did felt divine, this captor of hers with the devil-blessed hands. When he finished, he continued his odd game of tying her to the chair, winding the soft cotton bandage over her fingers, wrists and arms, all the way up to her shoulders. He then moved to her hips, constraining them firmly against the wood. That binding felt firm and odd – kind of like he had immobilized her womb.
"It is well, Elizabeth?" he asked.
"Yes, I'm alright."
"Bon," he replied, but there was the suggestion of warning in his voice and she instinctively found herself tensing. "This pleases me. But to achieve what I must, there may be a little discomfort. Do not concern yourself too much, mon cher. All will be well, j'assure."
Easy to say, but now she was worried.
4. Trust
Sir continued his odd process of restraining her. Her breasts he treated differently, binding them crisscross like a bra, above and below each one so that they were raised up, with her nipples facing outwards.
"Take a deep breath, Elizabeth," he said.
She did so, and tried to gasp for she found she could not take a full breath – her lungs were constricted. "Sir, I…" she began in a panicked voice.
"Shush, this is fine, mon cher. Just breathe, slow, shallow and steady, yes. You see? You can take the air in perfectly well."
Elizabeth found she could breathe, but not with large lungfuls. This restraint made her nervous. "I would feel better if it was a little bit less tight, Sir."
"It makes you anxious, yes?"
"Yes."
"Good. You are forced to trust me a little, because I control your breathing. I control everything mon cher, but I will not hurt you." He chuckled in a somewhat dark and intimidating manner, "Well, I will not hurt you very much, anyway. And I promise you mon cher, you will very much like all that I do. This I swear."