abduct3.txt CHAPTER VII ----------- Leaning my head against his thigh and felt him stroke my hair. I was still very turned on from his hands, earlier, and I now hoped he would make me cum. Silently, I prayed for him to begin touching me, but I couldn't ask for it because he had not given me permission to speak. I rubbed my breasts against his leg, and arched my body towards his hand, but he just kept absently rubbing my hair. I looked up at him, and he looked down at me and smiled. Patting my cheek, he said that he had some errands to run, and would have to leave me for a while. Standing, he took my hand and helped me to stand. He led me to the wall near the cell, where I had already noticed several objects hanging. He took my leather bound wrist and pulled it up toward a chain dangling from the wall. I noticed for the first time that there was a small metal ring on the cuff, and I watched as he clipped that wrist to the chain on the wall. Turning me around to face the wall, he pulled my other wrist several feet over, and clipped that one to a similar chain. I was facing the wall, my breasts pressed up against the gold carpet fabric, as he pulled my feet apart and chained them, also. I turned my head and watch as he selected what appeared to be a belt from the things hanging on the wall. He strapped it around my waist, and then turned and selected a vibrator. He pushed this vibrator up inside me, turned it on, then strapped a portion of the belt between my legs, evidently to keep the vibrator inserted. I began to squirm a bit from the tingling sensations the vibrator was producing, and he patted me on my bottom, kissed the back of my neck and said, "Good bye. I'll see you later". The vibrator felt so good at first. Then, as I strained to rub my clit against the leather between my legs, I couldn't quite climax. I try, but he had left me helpless do do anything but accept these stimulations. After a while, I got so frustrated that I almost start to cry. I kept thinking he'd come back in any moment, and he'd take me down and make me cum. But the time drags on and on, and still he didn't come back. Gradually, the vibrations seemed to become more distant, almost as though I had grown accustomed, or desensitized to them. Not quite numb, but not as responsive to them as I was at first. I drift in and out of a stupor, not quite asleep, but not fully awake. Time stands still, and I no longer wait eagerly for him to return and sexually satisfy me. I now just wait for him to return to use me any way he will. I have lost track of all time and don't know whether it is day or night. The softly lighted room doesn't give any clue as to time or day. I could have been here for hours, or for days. I don't know anymore. I have only his word for it that my 48 hours is not up yet. Maybe he won't release me after 48 hours. Already, it seems as though I have had no existence prior to this, and that I won't have any existence after he is through with me. I don't know any reality but this. CHAPTER VIII ------------ Suddenly, without warning, he is there, releasing my ankles and my wrists from their bondage. Unable to stand, I slump against him and feel him ease me down to the soft, carpeted floor. He removes the belt from between my legs and around my waist, and takes the vibrator out of me. Smiling, he brushes the hair back from my face and asks if I've missed him. I nod, unable to speak as he caresses my face and runs his hands over my body. I am trembling, and I realize that my body is responding to his touch in a most shameless way. I want to beg him to fuck me, but I can't speak. Without consciously deciding to do so, I part my legs and open myself up to his gaze and his touch. He gently touches my clit, which causes me to jump, I am so sensitive by now. Laughing softly, he inserts a finger into me, asking "Is this what you want?" Again, I nod, clenching my internal muscles tightly around his finger, and rubbing against his hand. He begins to move his fingers in and out of me rythmically, building my desire higher and higher, until I am gasping, writhing, ready to climax. Just as I approach climax, he withdraws his hand. I whimper in protest, and grab his hand, trying to place it back within me. He just shakes me off and tells me to lie still. I have given my promise that I will be obedient, so I lie still, aching and throbbing and wanting to be satisfied. I promise myself that at the earliest opportunity, I will satisfy myself. Who needs him? He must have read my mind, or perhaps he interpreted the secret look which may have been in my eyes. He asked if I wanted to climax. I nodded, smiling hopefully. He told me that if I really wanted to climax, I would have to be very obedient. First, he said, I would have to get on my hands and knees and crawl to the center of the room. Immediately I obeyed his instruction. Now, he said, lie on my back with my legs spread, which I did. He told me to start touching myself, beginning with my breasts, and continuing down to my things and pussy. I stared at him, not believing what he was saying. He wanted me to touch myself, in front of him, knowing that somewhere a concealed camera was recording this. In a stern voice, he commanded, "NOW!" and I shyly, hesitantly started caressing my breasts, moving my hands slowly down my ribs, across my stomach, down my thighs, my inner thighs, to that hidden, moist part of me. As I hesitated, he commanded, "DO IT!", and I began slow, circular rubbing motions on my clit, and ran my fingertips over those soft, smooth lips. I began to be very very turned on, and soon it didn't seem to matter that he was watching me. I grew more and more heated, closer to climax, and he watched me more intently. Soon, his watching me seemed to increase my excitement, and I felt myself open up to him even more. I held the lips open with one hand, while my fingers played over my clit and slid inside myself, pumping in and out with increasing fervor. Closer and closer I came to climax, and he knew it. Lying there, with my legs open and my back arched, I played with myself for his entertainment. Gasping, I came, and after a few minutes, or an eternity, I lay quietly, exhausted and released in a way I had never known before. CHAPTER IX ---------- He came over and knelt on the carpet in front of me, parting my legs, and bending over, he began to lick and tongue my sensitive clit. Gently, he stimulated and thrilled me with his knowledgeable tongue, rearousing my desire and bringing me again to the brink of climax. With one swift, smooth motion, he lifted himself onto me, and slid his cock deep inside me, stretching me and filling me up. Slowly, steadily, he began to slide in and out of me with that hard, pulsating cock, and my body began to pump in rythm with him. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and using my hands to cling to his shoulders, I raised my hips off the floor in order to take every inch of him deep inside me. I looked up, into his amused eyes, as he took my breath away with his skilled movements. Faster and faster we began to move, as he slid even deeper into me. We were both sweating and panting, as he increased the rythm even more. Suddenly, he grew harder, bigger in me. With a sudden tensing of his back I felt an explosion of hot, fiery liquid fill me. As he kept pumping away, I began to cum. Crying, my inner barriers totally destroyed, I screamed, "I love you" to this stranger who was holding me captive. We lay there on the floor for a few moments longer, with him still inside me, and holding me, while my breathing calmed and my body relaxed. I looked up and whispered into his chest, "I love you". He looked down and sort of smiled. "You'll be punished for speaking without permission," he said. Although he spoke softly, he had a look on his face that told me he meant it. I shuddered as I wondered what he could have in mind for my punishment. After a short time, he crawled up and putting his wet, sticky cock into my mouth, told me to lick it clean. I don't like the taste or the smell of cum, yet I did as he wished. I no longer feared that the captivity would last forever - I worried that I might displease him and he would set me free! I had already displeased him by speaking without permission. Standing up, he bent and helped me to my feet. Leading me over to the cell, he pushed me against it and using handcuffs, cuffed my hands to different bars, stretching me across the cell. He went to his wall of devices, and took down a sort of whip, with several strands of leather which all braided into a handle. He brought the whip over and gently, softly brushed it against my face, down across my breasts, around on my back, down to my bottom. As the whip caressed me gently, he spoke to me, telling me that since this was my first disobedience, the punishment would be slight. He told me to close my eyes and keep them closed until he gave me permission to open them. Frightened, I did as he commanded. I felt him withdraw from me, and I stood there, with my arms extended, shivering from both fear and cold. He told me to open my legs. He said that no matter what, I had to keep them open, and that if I closed them, I was immediately to resume the position with them open. I spread my legs wider, and felt the tension in my arms increase as they were pulled even farther because of this shift in my position. Without warning, I felt the whip strike my lower back and bottom. Several distinct, separate stings indicated that many of the strands had hit in different areas at once. I squirmed and cried out, closing my legs and pressing against the cold bars of the cell as I tried to overcome the pain. His hand pulling my head back was accompanied by his voice, harshly commanding me to resume my position. Shuddering, I once again stood straight, with my legs spread. Another slash of the whip, this time across my bottom so that the tips of the strands wrapped around my body to sting my abdomen. Again, I writhed against the bars and again was commanded to stand up. Again and again his whip struck my body, sometimes hitting new flesh, sometimes hitting welts which were already raising across my body. He whipped my upper back, and the strands wound around me to my breasts. He seemed to favor my inner thighs and often aimed it between my legs. Even though I knew pain and felt the harshness of the whip, I sensed that he was not striking me as hard as he might have. I felt that he was not using full strength, and I was thankful. He measured out the strokes, sometimes slowly, with several long minutes between each stroke, sometimes two or three or more one right after the other, without giving me a chance to catch my breath. I was crying, sobbing, with pain and humiliation, as well as with the knowlege that I meant nothing to him. How could he whip me if he loved me as I had thought I loved him? And, since I had told him that I loved him, and since he had been so gentle with me didn't that mean he must love me, too?