by Harper Vonna
She watched him walk out of the room and close the door behind him. This was wrong! Wrong! Terrifying! He had to come back. Rescue her. Ram his cock in her helpless mouth.
Stimulation didn’t begin to describe what she was being subjected to. Fierce, fast vibrations attacked every part of her. Trying to climb on top was an impossible task. Her poor breasts screamed for relief, yet she couldn’t stand still.
Like a trapped beast seeking a way out of hell, she stumbled about. Moving was slightly more tolerable than standing still. Either way her body cried. A climax! Please! She’d do anything for the delicious end to hot inescapable anticipation.
Her restless steps took her to the window where humid air pressed on her overheated flesh. Barely able to breathe, she paced to the bed only to recoil from what it represented. Seconds later she stood next to the sawhorse. If only she had use of her hands! Damn it, she’d straddle it and press her pussy against the horizontal bar, rub her clit on it until her body did what it needed to.
Back in the middle of the room, she tried to take inventory. The pulsations weren’t painful in of themselves. What discomfort she felt—and there was a lot—centered on the breasts she now hated. Her shoulders ached and she’d rubbed her wrists raw.
Her innards were being attacked, her understanding of herself as a woman rewritten. She’d climax if she let down her guard but then what? The rapidly-moving monster would still be inside her. Endlessly working her. Making her crazy.
Would her captor eventually take pity on her? She almost laughed at the desperate question. He was an operative, a well-paid dominant doing what his employer wanted him to. He didn’t see her as a human being.
Neither did whoever was behind this.
Before the word torture could take too big a bite out of her, she stalked as close as she could to the camera.
Go to hell she told whoever was watching. One day I’ll be free, and when I am, I’ll find and kill you.
Flames licked up her vagina. It had taken all her strength to confront her unseen assailant. As a result, she lacked the necessary resolve to stand up to the relentless vibrator. The never-ending movements radiated throughout her. Even her toes, fingers, and ears were turned on.
The climax slammed into her, knocking her first to her knees and then onto her side. Fighting her throbbing nipples, she curled up as best she could and lost herself in what began as relief but soon became a kind of rage. Her pussy muscles kept fucking the vibrator until she was exhausted. The dildo didn’t care of course. It was relentless in contrast to her weary short-circuiting system.
After what felt like forever, her vagina’s clenching slowed and then stopped. Because the artificial attack continued, she found no relief. Taunting her with its cruel promise, her body started to respond again.
A moan slipped out of her as she fought her way back onto her knees. Unable to stand without use of her hands, she sagged forward and waited. She’d always loved the hard, hot moments right before her body fell apart, yet she’d never been multi-orgasmic.
That was great fun, her body had always announced, but I’m pooped and need to rest. Call me later, much later.
There wasn’t going to be any rest or a later, not with Reno’s tool trapped inside her.
The second forced explosion crawled over her, all but tearing her apart. Something threw her about, clawing and issuing commands. When, finally, her body had nothing more to give, she filled her lungs. A little stronger, she started knee-walking toward the bed. One thought dominated. The next time a climax attacked, and it would, she didn’t want her tormentor to see her writhing on the floor.
Crying, she knelt as straight as she could, rested an elbow on the bed, and leveraged herself to her feet. She’d never been this tired, but sleep had been stripped from her. She belonged to someone else.
Trapped.
Sexual hunger rising again.
Chapter Eleven
His subject was pretty much ruined all right, Reno concluded. She probably didn’t give a damn what he’d been up to, but he’d only briefly taken his attention off her image in his computer’s video feed during her hour-long stint in hell. Even after all this time with the same job, watching a subject suffer still turned him on, but that wasn’t the only reason he knew she’d come a total of six times. She wouldn’t be good to anyone if her heart stopped. He was responsible for keeping her alive.
She’d squirmed all over the bed. Occasionally she’d rolled onto her stomach only to whimper and roll back to take pressure off her suffering breasts. She’d clawed at the leather between her ass cheeks until her nails broke but hadn’t damaged the equipment. Neither had she dislodged the high tech and extremely effective cock. Every time she turned her back to the camera, he was treated to a delicious view of her clenching buttocks.
Moments ago she’d been trying to find a comfortable position while perched on the edge of the bed which had only jammed the dildo deeper. Now she was standing again with her body sagging, her hair obscuring her features, and her legs shaking.
“I’ll keep this short and to the point,” he told her as he came in. “I can outlast you. Are you ready to admit defeat?”
She slowly lifted her head. In many, many respects, the woman she’d been yesterday no longer existed. Shuddering, she nodded. Spittle coated her chin, and she shivered.
“Good decision. A little humility goes a long way in my business—as long as it doesn’t come from me.”
He’d kept the remote in his pocket where she couldn’t see it, but he’d gotten what he wanted, for now. With every subject a time came when the balance of power tipped irrevocably in his direction. When that happened, he fancied himself a kindly keeper. His slave-in-training had turned her life and body over to him because she had no choice. He understood the gift for what it was.
However, he wasn’t yet there with this one.
“I need your full attention,” he told her. Let her dread his intention a little longer before closing in on her. “In order for that to happen, I need to get rid of the distractions. Your choice. Which comes first, the nipple clamps or what’s jammed inside you?”
She blinked at tears that kept forming, then arched her back as if presenting her breasts to him.
“Good choice. Come here.”
She started to take a step. Frowning, he held up a hand. “Not like that. Remember what you’re becoming.”
Horror and anger warred in her expression. Then, head dragging again, she awkwardly slumped to her knees. He winced at what the jolt must have done to her poor breasts. She shook so she scrabbled forward.
Ignoring the camera, he took hold of both clamps and released them at the same time. For maybe a second she didn’t react. Then, screaming as best she could, she tried to pull into herself as renewed blood flow assaulted her nipples. He sometimes massaged a slave’s breasts after a session with the clamps, but his time with this one was a cram course, and he needed to make every lesson count.
That thought in mind, he pulled out the remote and punched it up another notch. She immediately forgot about her breasts—which really were pretty damn fine despite his dislike of silicone.
Making sounds that reminded him of bleating lambs, she scrambled to the right only to head in the opposite direction. He figured she was trying to say no.
“Forget everything you ever believed about the world.” Determined to get his point across, he grabbed her hair and held her in place. “If I wanted to I could attach a short chain to your collar and hook you to the floor so you couldn’t lift your head. There you’d be with your ass high and handsome waiting to be abused. Or used. By men or objects you don’t want to see let alone experience. You don’t want that to happen, do you?”
She shook even more.
“All right then let me get this straight. You’d really like the pussy abuse to end, right?” He nodded her head for her. “And you’ll do whatever I ask or command, right?” This time he waited for her response which came in the form of another nod
.
“Okay.” She had a wall-eyed look that told him she might not know where she was or who she’d been. Sex juice had thoroughly coated her inner legs, and the smell of female arousal filled the room. “So to make sure we’re on the same page, here’s what’s going to happen. My little toy is going to stay where it is, but I’m turning it off so you can focus on me. Now here’s the important point. Don’t forget this if you want to make it through our time together. You’re nothing but meat. You’re alive for one reason. To learn to cater to men.”
He let that sink in before backing the dildo’s movement down a little. He wasn’t sure how much she noticed. Damn! Sometimes he nailed his job!
“I’m going to unlock your cuffs but the mouth spreader remains. Give me a good time and you’ll get something to eat and another shower. However, if you displease me in any way—“ Grasping her shoulders, he made her face the camera. “Do that and you’ll wish whoever is watching this wanted you dead.”
She still looked as if she barely grasped what he was saying, prompting him to silence the vibrator. Tenuous relief rolled through her. He would have been more inclined to buy her expression if she wasn’t twisting her hips about in an attempt to milk all possible pleasure from what she both hated and loved. He should tell her about the slave he’d kept for his personal use for the better part of a year before selling her because she was highly sexed. An addiction to fucking could lead to a great ride for a free woman but became a sex slave’s greatest weakness.
“Because I’m in a generous mood—“ He wasn’t but what the hell. “I’ll give you a heads-up. Your body will remain on overload for hours. One touch of this—“ He indicated the remote. “and you’ll be in for it. You don’t want to climax any more right now do you?”
Looking even more apprehensive if that was possible, she shook her head. He loved being a man, but he wished he could briefly step inside a woman’s body so he’d have a better understanding of what being sexually overstimulated was like for the opposite sex.
“You remember where we were don’t you?” He slapped her cheek. Damn but she’d been through the wringer all right. “In gratitude for my taking pity on you—at least temporarily—you’re going to get me off.”
Slumping, she nodded. As he pocketed the remote and extracted the handcuff key he reminded himself not to talk so much. He had a tendency to paint broad verbal pictures so he could watch a captive’s reactions.
The moment he unlocked the cuffs, her arms dropped to her sides, leaving the cuffs to dangle from her right wrist. One wrong move on her part and he’d have her back under his control, not that he didn’t already.
After giving her some time to deal with the pins and needles he had no doubt were assaulting her shoulders, he yanked down his shorts—he hadn’t bothered with underwear—and stepped out of them. Some operatives maintained that keeping one’s pants on reinforced the master/slave image, but he liked feeling free.
She started to look up at him only to lower her gaze. Before he had to slap her again, she cupped her hands around his cock and aimed it at her gaping mouth. Her eyes glittered, but she didn’t cry. Good. If there was one thing he hated, it was a captive who felt sorry for herself.
As if eager to get it over with, she leaned forward. His cock glided over her tongue and the roof of her mouth, then touched the back of her throat. She gagged.
“Get the hell over that!” he commanded. “For all you know, your life’s going to revolve around moments like this. Make them count or suffer the consequences.”
Realizing she was trying to swallow, he backed off. As soon as he figured she had herself under control, he grabbed her hair and anchored her to him. “The more you piss around, the longer this is going to take.”
She sighed and shivered. Then, eyes closing, she began sucking. He drew her head even closer. He had to give her credit for getting her hands out of the way so his cock could go deep. She started to place her arms by her sides but that knocked her a bit off balance. Shuddering, she planted her hands on his thighs. Her fingers felt small against his muscles, her mouth an inviting if reluctant cave. A sense of well-being stole over him. He’d done well. The little bitch had learned her first and most important lesson and now, by damn, he’d milk his reward from her.
Years of training sex slaves had tempered his sex drive. He still loved fucking, no doubt about it, but he no longer had to weather his primal nature. Experience had taught him that at the end of each and every day he’d get his way.
The latest subject was at his feet, beaten down and at least temporarily broken. She lived to serve him, would obey his every command, struggle to swallow every drop.
Losing himself in the delicious moment, he began thrusting into her. She shivered wavelike but didn’t try to break free. With every breath she took, he relished his domination.
He had her where he wanted her. He might not have paid for her, but she belonged to him. She lived to serve him and fill her mouth with his angry cock.
“Take it, bitch! Wrap your mind around what the word helpless truly means. Never forget today, got it!”
Fucking was making him short of breath, and he wasn’t done by half imprinting her new reality on her. He’d pummel every last vestige of ego out of her, turn her into his receptacle.
Ejaculate into her helpless mouth.
Hold her against him as she frantically swallowed his gift.
#
Hours and minutes slipped past. Cheri lost track of whether it was day or night. The dildo, chastity belt, and mouth spreader disappeared. The collar remained. Twice her captor let her eat, but she had to do so while on her hands and knees lapping from a bowl. He took her back into the shower, even let her nap on the hard, narrow mattress.
The desperately-needed rest hadn’t lasted long enough. She’d just gotten used to the bonds roping her wrists to her ankles and keeping her on her side when Reno returned. He untied her and massaged her aching muscles, then presented a long metal bar with cuffs at either end. She didn’t resist when he used the bar to spread and restrain her arms. He did the same to her legs. With his encouragement, she learned how to shuffle with her legs wide apart. He planted her in front of the camera and switched her buttocks with a long, thin whip. She had no idea how many times she circled in full and humiliating view of the unknown watcher.
When she couldn’t go any more, Reno had her stand before him. Reaching between her naked legs, he began stimulating her clit. She climaxed within seconds, whimpering and sobbing. Minutes later he again put her through the ordeal.
“Not so haughty anymore are you,” he said as she swayed and shivered. “Maybe you’re starting to get the point. You’re meat, a piece of clay.”
Instead of letting her recover, he reconfigured her bonds and took her outside. Explaining nothing, he walked her barefoot down a trail that meandered through the vegetation. With her elbows restrained behind her and a ball gag filling her mouth, she meekly submitted to the tugs on her collar. At least she was away from the damnable camera, but there might be others out here.
Reno told her the names and use of several plants, making her wonder if he intended to quiz her. Hard as she tried to keep everything straight, dread made that impossible.
Whistling, he led her to the base of a large tree with many branches and a chain around the base of the trunk. After positioning her under a sturdy limb, he freed her elbows and stepped back. How she wanted to run! Even shredding her feet would be worth getting away from him.
But she didn’t know where she was.
His silence was nearly her undoing. The sun had just set, and darkness was pressing around her. Unnerved for maybe the hundredth time, she offered no resistance as he bound her wrists palm to palm in front. She tried to go somewhere else in her mind as he fed the rope between her legs, taking care to make sure it pressed against her sex. That done, he tossed the loose end over the overhead limb behind her, pulled the rope tight, and fastened it to the chain near her feet.
&nbs
p; She had to stand on her toes to take pressure off her sex. He didn’t return her gaze but pulled out a digital and took a number of pictures of her, all from the neck down. He even snapped close-ups of her labia and the crotch rope.
“Gotta have something for the paying customer,” he said. Then he walked away.
Telling herself he was only messing with her mind and had no intention of deserting her, she stared after him. Minute after minute passed. Dusk became night. The moon was in quarter phase, and she could only see a few stars. She knew her imagination was getting the best of her. Just the same the cadence of sound sucked her in. Insects seemed to be everywhere along with sounds from larger creatures. As the strain in her legs and pressure against her sex mixed with something beyond exhaustion, she envisioned wild creatures watching her, coming closer. She’d never been afraid of creepy-crawly things but that had been when she could and sometimes killed them. Maybe spiders, ants, and snakes had decided it was payback time.
What about cougars or panthers?
Please come back. Please I’ll do anything. Don’t leave me. Oh God you can’t leave me like this.
But he did. For hours. Until fear had moved into terror only to be replaced by something deeper. Every inch ached, and she peed twice. The world she knew no longer existed while the relentless pressure against her pussy kept her aroused. She sometimes leaned into the rope and rubbed her clit against it but couldn’t stimulate herself to climax. She wanted but couldn’t have. He controlled her ability to find pleasure, like everything else.
Finally a spear of light appeared. Much as she wanted to believe the horrid experience was going to end, she knew better. Maybe it wasn’t Reno, and if it was, he might have another nightmare in mind.
“I’ve been watching TV,” Reno said as he trailed the light from her face to her toes. “Got caught up in a movie then took a nap. Good thing it doesn’t get cold here at night or you’d be miserable—miserable being a relative term.”
Did he expect her to respond? She struggled to keep her head up.