Obsession - Girl Abducted (9 page)

Mark brought the head to her entrance. Slowly he pressed it in a few inches, giving her some time to adjust to its circumference. Her eyes were shut, but not squeezed shut.

He decided he would like to hear her come. Unbuckling the penis gag, he removed it from his slave girl's mouth.

She gasped for breath, breathing deeply for several seconds. Mark noticed her lovely pert nipples. They were erect, standing out like little marbles. She really did seem to be enjoying this! He didn't allow himself to dwell on this wonderful, impossible thought. It didn't matter anyway—
he
was enjoying it!

Taking the dildo again, he forced it into her cunt, this time barely allowing her time to adjust. Emily moaned, a low guttural sound, as he pushed it deep inside of her. He could feel her vaginal muscles involuntarily trying to push out the invading object. He allowed it to slide out several inches and then thrust it back, pressing even deeper this time. In and out went the huge rubber cock. Emily's head fell back, her lips parted and glistening. Clearly there was pleasure here— now he just needed to add some pain.

It wasn't enough to just tease her sexually. He had to remember he was training her as well—training her to associate pleasure with pain, and pain with pleasure. He continued to fuck her while he thought it over. Of course—the
clamps! He hadn't yet clamped her nipples, waiting like delicious little cherry gumdrops.

Mark let the dildo slide out of Emily's cunt. Her eyes opened and he almost thought he saw an expression of dismay darken her features. Laughing he said, "Don't worry, greedy cunt, I'm not finished yet. Just want to add a little spice." Mark strode over to the wall and chose a pair of rubber-tipped nipple clamps. He was saving the alligator clips for another day. For now he would initiate her virgin nipples with these gentler clamps.

Grabbing a nipple between forefinger and thumb, Mark rolled it until it was completely distended. Satisfied, he pressed open one of the clips and let it bite shut on the little nubbin. Emily screamed. Ignoring her, he treated the other nipple to the same preparation and clamped the other clip onto it. The chain that connected them hung prettily between her high round breasts. Emily was breathing very fast.

Cupping his hand gently over her mouth and nose, Mark said soothingly, "Slow down, little one. Take it easy. Your body will adjust to the tension. You've taken much worse than this, my brave darling." Somehow she did seem to calm down as he spoke. He smoothed her wild hair from her face.

Mark once again pressed the dildo home. Her clit was pulled and rubbed with each hard thrust of the huge cock. Her hips began to arch up and her breasts jiggled the chain between them. Her nipples were held fast in the grip of the clamps, but the pain was obviously not enough to totally offset the rising sexual tension.

"Oh, God," she moaned.
"Don't forget," he warned her.

"May I—" She couldn't seem to get the words out.

Relentlessly he fucked her hard with the dildo, sliding the phallus now glistening with pussy juice in and out of her cunt.

"Oh, God," again and then, "Oh, God! May I come!" The last word was drawn out and ended in a rising scream.

"Yes," he assented, his voice low with lust. Jerking in her bonds, the chain whipping wildly between her breasts, Emily came, hard and long. While she was still recovering, her skin flushed and damp with perspiration, Mark chose a small riding crop from the wall. Without warning he began to smack her ass and thighs until they were a pleasing pink. The sound echoed in the room as the little square of leather smacked against the moist, firm flesh.

He focused on her luscious ass for a while, watching it darken to a deep pink before moving on to her thighs and her calves. Moving to her front, he smacked her belly and her still chained breasts. When he smacked her clamped nipple Emily screamed, a long howl of pain. Mark continued to smack her body, ignoring her protests.

Moving down with the crop, he smacked a line down her smooth stomach to her bare mons, enjoying the slapping sound and the steady cries and moans each smack elicited.

Her eyes were closed, and she wasn't prepared when the crop found her naked and exposed little cunt. He cropped her spread, wet pussy, soaking the little leather square with her juices. Then something happened.

As he continued to whip her vulva, really rather gently, her breathing seemed to slow and deepen. Her head fell back, her
eyes fluttering shut. Her breasts heaved slowly, sensually.

The panic was gone. Grace somehow seemed to have taken its place.

Mark slowed down, not speaking, not wanting to distract her from this remarkable turn of events. This woman, who was not submissive and did not seek out pain as pleasure, had just climaxed while suspended and chained, with her nipples clamped hard between rubber-tipped teeth. And now she was being cropped with a hard little piece of leather, and not only was she not crying out in pain, but she was clearly near the edge of another orgasm! And not an ordinary orgasm, but a flying, submissive head-space type of pleasure that he had seen before, but only with well-trained and deeply submissive women.

When the familiar arch of her hips betrayed the nearness of her release, Mark smacked the poor bared pussy especially hard. Emily's eyes flew open and she screamed with pain, unable to close her legs or soothe her flesh. But Mark was there to soothe it for her. He knelt in front of her and licked the bruised and heated flesh until she cried out, this time with pure pleasure.

Even then she remembered his rule. The cage was a constant, silent reminder. "Please!" she yelled. "May I come?"

"Come, slut. For now you truly are my slut."

She did.

She rarely expressed any discomfort, even when he left her bound and contorted for long periods of time. When he left the house to run errands, he would always tie her tightly with rope and chain. He liked to tie her to a low stool, just inside the front door, with her back facing the door. Then the first things he would see when he came home were her pussy and asshole, spread and bared for him.

Sometimes he would stick a dildo in her cunt, or an anal plug in her ass. Sometimes both. He would warn her they had better be in place when he returned or she would suffer the consequences. They always were in place, lewdly sticking out of her body, except once. Once a dildo had slipped out of her cunt onto the floor, and poor Emily, being tied tightly by her wrists, ankles and waist to the stool, was powerless to replace it. When Mark came in the door, his arms full of groceries, he feigned anger at this failure.

"Emily, you let the dildo fall out!" He paused, sadistically letting the tension mount. "Let's see. What do you think I should do to you, little slut? I want you to pick the punishment. Shall I cane you? Or shall I whip you with the flogger? You decide."

Still bound to the stool, Emily whispered, "The whip, sir."

She obviously knew by now he wouldn't listen to any entreaties for mercy.

"The whip, huh? You choose the whip? Well, guess what? I choose the cane." Mark grinned wickedly. He had known she
would choose the whip. He delighted in the look of fear in her eyes. But what could she do? She couldn't even raise her head in the position she was in. The poor girl would have to suffer the consequences of a wet pussy that wouldn't hold a cock.

Mark brought out the leather-sheathed bamboo cane. "Kiss it," he commanded, holding it down to her face. Emily kissed the cane and then burst into tears, already anticipating its wicked cut.

"Do you want the cane?"

"If—if it pleases you, sir," she stammered.

"But do you want it? Answer yes or no."

There was a silence for a moment, as she struggled with the correct response. Of course, there was only one response available to her. She was forbidden the luxury of refusal. She knew that, knew it only too well. But by the same token, to ask for the cane—it seemed for a moment it was too much for her.

Mark prodded her side gently with his foot. In a kind voice that belied his sadistic intent, he said, "Answer me. Do you want to be caned by your master? Yes or no?"

"Yes," she whispered, speaking so quietly he was forced to lean down to hear her. But he didn't force the poor girl to speak up. He had what he wanted.

"Good girl. Yes, you want it. You want it because I want it.

That's all you have to know. Ever." He bent down, drawing the stiff rod across her bared back. She flinched but of course could not get away. "There, now, my love," Mark crooned.

"It's not as if you didn't earn this. You brought this entirely on
yourself with your lack of control. Now take it bravely and it will be over before you know it." With that he brought the cane down on her offered ass, catching both cheeks at once.

Emily screamed but couldn't move even the slightest bit to avoid the rod.

Next he caned the tender flesh of her thighs. Then back up to her ass. After about ten blows, the final one caught her bared, spread cunt and asshole. He hit her much more gently there, but still it was hard enough to cause her to cry out one long loud wail that didn't stop for several seconds.

Mark left her while he calmly put away the groceries. When he released her he forced her to her knees in front of him.

Pulling out his already rigid cock, he forced it into her mouth, fucking her face with long, smooth strokes until he spurted down her throat. Tucking his cock back into his jeans, he said, "Go get cleaned up. I'll make us some dinner."

Emily was dessert. She lay on the table after the meal, forced to hold open her pussy so Mark could tongue her slit until she cried out sweetly for permission to come. There was no question about it. She was becoming his whore.

One day soon after the caning on the stool, Mark was watching a football game on TV, something he rarely did.

Actually, he wasn't really paying attention. He was too distracted by his "coffee table". Mark had instructed Emily to kneel in front of him, naked of course, on her hands and knees, so that her back presented a kind of table for him to rest his feet, while he lounged on the couch. He even rested his beer can on her gracefully arched back
Her breasts hung down like delicious fruit begging to be plucked and suckled. Her ass cheeks were pleasingly splayed, revealing the sweetly pouting pussy lips between her legs.

After about forty minutes, Emily began to shift her weight, almost upsetting the beer can resting on her body.

"Furniture doesn't move, cunt!"

"Please, sir," she entreated. "I'm feeling very stiff. My knees hurt."

"If I let you up, you will have to be punished for failing to serve me as I tell you."

Emily fell silent, apparently weighing the unfair choice offered her. She managed to stay still for another twenty minutes or so, but she began to tremble as her muscles strained to support her.

"Sir?"

"Slave?"

"I can't. I'm sorry, but I can't." As she spoke, her arms gave out and Emily fell to the ground, the beer can falling with her, spilling into her hair and on her face. Emily lay in a heap, too exhausted even to wipe the beer away.

"Get up," Mark commanded sternly. He stood, nudging her side with his foot. Emily made an effort to rise, but fell back down, closing her eyes. She tried again, this time managing to kneel in front of him. Her head was bowed and her distress was evident on her face. She had failed him.

"All right then. You've chosen this, don't forget," said Mark, as he lifted her to her feet, and then into his arms. He strode to the bathroom, where he lay the inert woman into
the tub. She shivered as her body touched the cold porcelain, but other than that she was still.

"Please, sir, mercy, sir," she said, her voice trembling.

"Mercy? For what? You can't even hold a position and I should show you mercy? You weren't being whipped. You weren't being tortured. All you had to do was kneel there, and you failed. I can see we'll have to do some physical training.

That perfect body of yours is weak! I don't want a weak slave.

We'll start stamina training tomorrow.

"But meanwhile, since you've already got half that beer slopped all over you, I'll go ahead and give you the rest of it."

A look of horror spread over Emily's face as she realized what he was saying. The meaning was all too clear as he unzipped his pants and pulled out his semi-erect penis.

Standing close to the edge of the tub he said, "Spread your legs, cunt. I'm going to piss on your cunt. Since you did such a lousy job being my table, now you'll be my toilet."

Emily didn't obey. "Do it, Emily," Mark said, his voice steely. "Do it or I'll put you in the cage and piss on your there. And you'll sleep in it." Reluctantly Emily spread her legs. But Mark wasn't done humiliating her. "Spread your cunt open for me. And raise your hips in the air."

Emily did as he ordered, blushing a fierce red. "What a perfect whore you look like, Emily, with your cunt wide open like that, offered up to me." Mark began to piss on her spread sex, the hot stream spraying across her clit, her belly and her thighs. Emily's eyes were squeezed shut.

Mark had a hard time finishing, because his cock got so hard at the sight of his humiliated slave girl succumbing to his
perverse whims. Next time he would piss in her mouth. When he was done, he started to zip up, but had another idea.

As Emily opened her eyes, she no doubt expected him to tell her to clean herself off. Instead he said, "Kneel there in the bathtub and suck me off, slave." Emily looked shocked.

"But sir! I'm covered in—I'm a mess! Please sir," she begged. She looked so unhappy, her hair dripping with beer, the rest of her dripping in urine. How marvelous that this gorgeous, famous movie star, who wouldn't have given him the time of day back in her former life, was kneeling naked in his tub, covered in his piss, begging for mercy.