Obsession - Girl Abducted (11 page)

He fell back on the couch, watching the flushed and gasping woman, covered in his semen, naked and kneeling before him. "Clean yourself—you're a mess," he ordered.

Emily looked at him, not sure what to do. He smiled and said,

"Use your mouth, little slut. Lick yourself clean."

Emily didn't look too happy but she obeyed, reluctantly scooping little blobs of come onto her fingers and licking them clean. She sat quietly for a moment longer, looking at the floor. Then she dared, "Please, sir. I really can't hold it anymore."

"Sure you can. Pretend you're in church." The idea amused Mark—this naked slut, wrists and ankles bound in iron, traces of his ejaculate still on her face, kneeling in a pew at church, wriggling slightly as she tried to pray with a full bladder.
Emily sighed. She was rocking slightly backwards and forwards, trying to keep her bladder from overflowing. Mark looked at her, contemplating her plight. "I'll give you a choice, little slut. I'll let you pee on one condition."

"Yes?" She looked up eagerly, desperately, at him.

"If I let you pee, you have to let me pee—in your mouth."

Emily looked dumbstruck, as if she couldn't possibly have heard him correctly.

"What?"

"You heard me. In your mouth. I've had quite a bit to drink too, you know. It would please me to use you as my toilet."

Emily was shaking her head "Are you refusing, slave?" He allowed her the illusion for the moment that she had any choice in the matter.

Emily didn't answer, continuing to look down, shaking her head from side to side. "It appears that you are refusing.

Very well. Let's take a trip to the cage where you can ponder your choice. The only way I'll allow you to relieve yourself is after I pee in your mouth."

Emily began to whimper as he dragged her to the closet.

For some reason she seemed more afraid of the cage than of a whipping or of being deprived of food or exposed to the elements. Something about the cage terrified her. Was it being shut up behind the bars, truly captive in such a small space? Mark didn't totally understand her terror of the cage, but he did intend to capitalize on it.

"Please. Please. I beg you." She was in tears now.

"Yes? You're ready to go to the bathroom with me?" She fell silent again, barely resisting as he shoved her into the
cage and clanked the little door shut with a bang and a click of the padlock. "I'll be in the bedroom. Call me when you're ready."

Several minutes later she called him. "Hurry," she entreated. "I can't hold it another second." Mark was there, releasing her. She fled past him into the bathroom. From habit she climbed right into the tub. He rarely allowed her to pee in the toilet because he liked to watch her, with her legs spread, the urine spraying down, splashing her legs and feet.

She stood, ready to pee, when he admonished, "Uh-uh—I said I go first." But it was too late. She couldn't control the stream of urine tinkling into the empty tub. Her face looked stricken, but her body was unable to obey his command.

"Oh, dear," Mark said. "What a naughty, naughty little girl.

I told you the rules and you flagrantly disobeyed. Seems to me that a punishment is in order, yes indeed. But first," he went on ignoring the fact she was hiding her head in her hands, still standing, drenched in her own urine, "first I need to piss. So get on your knees, and open wide."

"Oh, God. Please! Please not that! I can't! I really just can't do that."

"Emily. I'm losing my patience with you. You have already disobeyed me once tonight and you will pay for that. Don't make it worse for yourself, cunt. Open your mouth or I'll devise a way to open it for you. And I promise it will be much worse for you, much much worse."

Emily obviously believed him. She knelt, trembling, and opened her lips in a half-hearted gesture. "Wider," he ordered, as he unzipped his fly and withdrew his long, thick
cock. Even semi-erect it was formidable. Emily's eyes were squeezed shut as she huddled, naked and wet with her own urine.

Mark positioned himself over her and stood for a moment.

Then it came, a fast, spurting stream of urine, some going into her mouth, the rest splashing in her face and hair. Emily cried out in dismay, doubling over so that the rest of the pee hit the top of her head, drenching her hair.

She was crying and gagging, completely and thoroughly humiliated by the ordeal. Mark finished peeing, even wiggling his penis over her to release the last droplets before he tucked his cock back into his pants. Then he turned on the water and, once it was warm enough, he turned the shower on, allowing the warm spray to wash over the miserable girl.

"Clean yourself up. When you are done, present yourself to me for your punishment." He pulled the shower curtain closed and left the room.

Emily stayed in the shower for quite a long time. Perhaps she was avoiding her master, whom she had clearly disobeyed. He left her to herself for while. He had gone into his study to work and had become completely absorbed in what he was doing.

After some time, perhaps forty-five minutes, he heard a rustling at the door as Emily quietly cleared her throat, waiting penitently in the doorway, eyes on the ground. Mark looked up from his computer. She looked lovely, her wet hair combed back from her face, shiny in the soft light, her skin dewy from her bath.
"Beautiful girl," he murmured. And then aloud, "There you are! Hiding in the bath, were you? It's late, you know. I'm rather tired. I think I'll wait and punish you tomorrow."

Emily looked very relieved, though she didn't say anything.

Then, as if thinking it over, she said, "Thank you, sir."

Emily was wearing a dark crimson corset, with the satin ties in the back pulled very tightly, cinching further her already slender waist. Her breasts were popping over the top of the corset, revealing just a hint of nipple. Her thick dark hair was swept up into a French twist and she was wearing dark red lipstick the color of her corset.

On her feet were very high red heels of a fine, soft leather.

They accentuated her slender ankles and long, lean calves.

Mark was enchanted with his slave girl. He didn't usually take so much time dressing her. But today was special.

Today he was going to try out this new device he had concocted. He called it the cunt tease, and Emily was about to learn of its formidable charms. Without speaking to her, Mark unlocked her cuffs from the chair and held out his hand for her to stand. She did so, somewhat awkwardly on the high heels until she got her balance. Her naked sex looked all the
more exposed, contrasted against the deep red satin of the corset, which stopped just above her mons.

Mark turned the pulley mechanism until the wooden beam was lowered to calf height. "Step over this, Emily. Straddle it," he commanded. Emily dutifully stepped over the thick slab. It was perhaps five feet long and about two inches thick.

Mark raised the beam until it just touched Emily's naked sex.

He instructed Emily to lift her arms high into the air above her head. He attached the iron bracelets together and secured them to a chain dangling just above her. He adjusted the chain until he was satisfied that Emily could stand comfortably in her heels.

She was pulled taut and completely helpless as Mark again began to raise the thick wooden beam between her legs.

"Emily."

"Yes sir." Emily looked nervously at the beam between her legs but she responded with a steady voice.

"Why do you exist?"

"To serve you, sir."

"And why else?"

"To suffer for you, sir."

"Do you like to suffer for me, slave?"

"If it pleases you, sir."

"No, that isn't what I'm asking." As he spoke, he ratcheted up the beam a few inches, so that it pressed firmly against her spread sex.

Emily sucked in her breath, but managed to respond, "I don't understand, sir."
"Do you actually
like
to suffer for me, apart from it pleasing me?" Again, he ratcheted up the beam, almost lifting her off the ground.

"Oh!" she cried, forgetting to answer him.

"Answer me, slut!' Higher went the bar, so that only the tips of her shoes were touching the ground. Her weight was almost entirely on her splayed pussy.

"Yes sir," she managed, between clenched teeth.

"Liar." He gave one more savage twist to the pulley and Emily was actually lifted off the ground by her sex. She screamed.

"Does it hurt, slut?"

"Yes sir," she groaned.

"You look ravishing, my angel. I think I'll keep you in a corset more often. Would you like to stay up there, dear?

Suspended by your cunt a little longer?"

Emily didn't answer. He often trapped her like this. If she said no, she would be severely punished for disobeying the basic tenet that she must never refuse him. If she said yes, he would say she was a liar and must suffer doubly for her trickery. Instead she said, "Please. I can't take this much longer. I'm being split in two!"

"Oh, you can take it for longer. I know you can. We're only just getting started. But here, this should distract you." He withdrew a little vibrating egg from his pocket. It was quite small, about the size of a Ping-Pong ball, though it was oval in shape. Mark pressed it against Emily's sex, wedging it between her clit and the wooden beam. Pressing a little switch on the remote Mark turned on the egg, which gave a
little humming sound as it began vibrating between the wood and her body.

He pulled a chain from his pocket. On the ends were two wicked looking clips with no rubber to cushion their bite. Mark approached his suffering slave girl. The wooden bar was lodged firmly between her legs, pushing up high into her sex and between the globes of her ass. The egg hummed mercilessly away on her clit. Mark pulled down the satin covering Emily's perfect breasts. He grabbed her by both nipples, using them as handles to pull her closer. Emily moaned.

Mark pressed one clip open, and holding out her nipple, he let the teeth close sharply down on it. Emily cried out. He well knew these clips were much more difficult to bear than the rubber-tipped clamps he had used on her before. The sharp metal teeth were actually biting into her tender flesh. He attached the other clip to the other nipple, and Emily's mouth opened into a silent O. "Please, oh please!"

"Take it! Take it for me, slave. You
say
you want to suffer for me. Then suffer!" He slapped her cheek, the sound ringing in the air. Emily was breathing hard, her eyes blazing. Mark slapped her again. Emily began to whimper and pant.

Again and again he slapped her cheeks, while Emily thrashed and moaned in her chains. Her sex was impaled on the hard wooden beam, her nipples mashed between sharp metal teeth. Her clit was being tickled and teased. As he slapped her, she swayed slightly, raped by the beam, teased by the egg.
Her eyes fluttered shut and she began to breathe more deeply, her sexual arousal apparent. Mark was mesmerized by the gorgeous woman, hanging by her sex, her head thrown back. Suddenly he realized what was happening. "You slut!" he cried, as he saw the flush in her cheeks, the arch of her body. He flipped off the remote and tore the clamps from her nipples. Little droplets of blood appeared where the little teeth had cut her flesh. Emily's eyes opened and when she saw the blood at her breasts she fainted, still bound in chains, painfully held by the wooden beam.

Mark was thrilled with Emily's progress. Pleasure and pain were always offered in tandem—she was never permitted the one without the other. She had learned to orgasm from a crop on her cunt as easily as from his tongue or deft fingers.

Her world had shrunk to serving Mark, to pleasing Mark, to avoiding punishment, to accepting what he offered her. Mark loved to give her pleasure nearly as much as he loved to make her suffer. The combination of the two was a powerful aphrodisiac.

He enjoyed coming up with new ways to test her obedience and the rising level of her sexual responsiveness.

He knew lust did not equal love but for now it was enough.

She was becoming such a delicious slut!

One evening he stretched a rubber tarp across an army cot he had set up in the playroom. He cut out a small hole in the center of it. He lifted the tarp from the cot and looked over at Emily. She was kneeling, her forehead touching the floor, her ass high in the air. Mark walked behind her and caressed her ass for a moment before smacking it with his cupped palm.
Emily grunted but stayed in position. Casually fingering her asshole he said, "Emily, would you agree with me that you're becoming a real slut?"

Emily didn't respond.

Feeling generous he said, "You don't have to answer. I'm going to prove it to you. You have an astonishing capacity for sexual passion. Sometimes all you are is a cunt—a piece of ass, my personal whore, a place to put my cock—nothing more. Now, get up on the cot and lay still. I'm going to cover you with this tarp so I won't be distracted by your beauty."

He helped her onto the cot and placed two pillows under her ass, raising her hips so her shaved sex tilted upward. He tied her wrists and ankles to the legs of the cot. Finally, he wrapped a large leather belt across her waist, buckling it beneath the cot.

Carefully he spread the tarp over her body. Because of the way she was raised on the pillows, the tarp only made contact with her body at the hips and on her legs. He didn't want to suffocate her but he did want her completely covered. He adjusted the tarp until her bare cunt was exposed through the hole in the tarp.

"How do you feel, Emily?"

"Vulnerable," she answered honestly, her voice muffled by the rubber tarp pulled over her. "Frightened."

"A little fear is a good thing," he murmured. Bending over her, he blew lightly on her exposed pussy. He ran his fingers lightly over the pooching labia, spreading them, feeling their slick softness. Bending down, he snaked out his tongue to taste her sweetness. Emily moaned. Her sex was opening,
swelling with his attentions. It looked like a lovely little flower in bloom.