Calista's Abduction

Calista's Ordeal 2

I untied her hands and let her clean up and wipe my come off her face with a couple of WetOnes, but in return for that I made her take her panties off, a fair enough deal. Then I retied her wrists behind her back and laid her back down on the mattress.

It was funny to watch her now. She couldn't deny that she had just come like a banshee from the humiliation of being face fucked while I whipped her pussy, and I could just see the thoughts going through her mind, wondering what had happened to her. As I handed her the wipe her hands were shaking like an old lady's with palsy and you could hear her trying to catch her breath in the darkness without sounding like she was panting. She sat back against the wall of the van, lifted her ass and slid her sodden underpants down her thighs and handed them to me with a shaking hand.

"What are you going to do with me now?" she asked as I retied her hands.

"Oh, I've got all sorts of things planned," I said. "A regular evening of fun."

"Look," she said, "You got what you wanted. Why don't you just take me home and I won't tell anyone what happened?"

"Tell anyone what happened?" I mocked. "Alicia, you haven't seen a tenth of what's going to happen. This is your night. This is the night you learn all about yourself. You won't be the same woman in the morning as you are right now, so I wouldn't make any plans about telling anyone anything right now. You've still got a long way to go."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"No?" I picked her up and propped her against the side of the van so she was sitting there slumped down kind of like a sack of flour. "Spread your legs."

"Please. Isn't that enough for one night?"

"Spread 'em."

She picked up her knees and spread them apart. I leaned over her and bunched her skirt up around her waist so she could look down and see her naked pussy.

"Watch," I said. "Watch what I'm going to do to you."

I moved around in front of her and got my face between her thighs, and when she saw what I was going to do she turned her face to the side as if she didn't want to see. I slapped her on the ass.

"Watch!" I said.

I brought my face down to her pussy. She was still wet, sticky with her own juices, and I loved the smell of hot womanly sex coming off that sweet, girlish pussy. I held her thighs apart and stuck my tongue out.

She grunted when I touched her slit with my tongue, like someone had punched her in the gut. I wiggled the tip of my tongue between her lips and slid it up till I found the tender bud of her clit, and then I began to trace circles around it with my tongue, pushing her tender flesh around. Calista clenched her eyes shut and looked like she was going to cry, because she couldn't keep me from doing what I was doing, and because what I was doing felt good to her, no matter how much she wanted to deny it.

It felt good to me too. Her pussy was soft and slick and juicy as a ripe peach, and I could look at her and see her mouth suddenly open as she gasped for breath. I don't care who she thought she was or who she was trying to be: I knew she was one hot bitch, every bit as sexually charged as I was, and her capacity for sexual pleaure made her nothing but a whore, a slave to her own pleasure. We both knew it. It's just that she was trying to deny it. As long as I kept my tongue in her trembling little clit, the things she felt kept shame at bay. As soon as I removed it, she;d feel the humiliation of her need again.

I pressed on the insides of her thighs and she let her legs fall open in a way that automatically pushed her cunt up towards me, making my job easier, and I pulled her thighs against my shoulders and drove my tongue between her tight lips, nuzzling her clit with my nose. I was filled with the smell and taste and feel of her, and it drove me wild. Her hips began to roll against the mattress as I ate her, and I knew she was getting into it.

I pressed the tip of my little finger against her asshole and she cried out and her eyes popped open, her body jerking beneath me. Being eaten was one thing, but having a man stick a finger up her little asshole was something else; something degrading, so I didn't insist. Not yet. I rimmed her anus with my finger as I stuck me tongue into her hot depths and she clamped her thighs around my ears.

I had to stop. I didn't want to lose it again here, and I figured that was enough to take care of any questions about why I was doing this to her. I got up and licked my lips, then wiped my mouth on the back of my hand. I left her slumped there in the back of the van, with her legs spread and her pussy shining with my saliva and climbed into the driver's seat, started the van and headed for my lab.

My lab wasn't much, really. It was a second floor loft in a decaying industrial district surrounded by empty warehouses and factories in a pretty dead part of town. No residents, no cops, nothing going on after sundown. Nice and quiet and private. I pulled the van around back and untied her ankles but left her wrists tied behind her back, then grabbed her arm and led her up the dark back stairs.

What I wanted to do was fuck her. I wanted to throw her down on the bed and just ram my cock up between her legs and let myself go on her, and I was pretty sure that if I did she'd get off on it too. She might go passive and play dead at first, but she was one hot piece inside, and I knew that if I provided her with a nice, hard piece of meat she would work herself off on it like a two-dollar whore. But I had another agenda. I had other things I wanted to prove to her.

Calista had come with me of her own free will, of that I had no doubt. Yes, she'd been tied and trussed up in the back of the van, but the attentive reader will have noticed that she never once asked me to stop what I was doing to her. Had she ever said so much as a "No!" or a "Let me go!" I would have untied her and jumped back, hands in the air like one of those calf-ropers in the rodeo, and I was sure she knew it.

No, she had stayed with me because I'd showed her something she wanted to see. I don't think she would have described it to herself in those terms, but that's what it came down to. I had just made her suck me off while I whipped her pussy till she came in the back of the van, and she had come hard. I had something she wanted all right, and I was pretty sure I knew what it was.

I got her inside and marched her over to the whipping rack and undid her wrists. She stood there quietly in the dark as I buckled the manacles around her wrists then took up the slack in the chains so that her hands were tied at shoulder level and I made sure she was secure. The whipping rack was a framework of two-by-fours about the size of a doorway and framed the same way, but heavily braced, with big chrome screw eyes and clips bolted to it to make tying easy and a broad base so it would support any weight I wanted to put on it. It was one of the pieces of equipment I'd been building over the last few weeks specifically for Calista. I'd been planning this for a while, ever since that first date.

Her clothes were still messed up, her skirt all wrinkled, her blouse open and her bra up above her tits. I went to the wall switch and hit the lights. She looked around her and then looked again, this time with her eyes a little wider. It was a gratifying reaction.

In addition to the whipping rack I had a big St. Andrew's cross, the one shaped like an X, used for binding someone's arms and legs to. There was a heavy chair upholstered in black leather and set with silver eyebolts and leather straps, and a big brass bed with ropes tied to the head and footboard. There were manacles hanging from the ceiling, and along one wall were my chains and straps, rope, whips and floggers, collars and cuffs, all where I could get to them. The lights were can lights set in the ceiling, designed to shine down upon the various stations and show off the equipment. Very medieval, very dramatic. It was like the stage for a play and Calista was the star

She stood there looking around sullenly, perhaps a bit nervous, but it was the fact that she was standing there at all that gave me a little thrill. She wasn't struggling, wasn't screaming for me to let her go. She was waiting. Waiting to see what I was going to do with her

"You no doubt want to know what's going on," I said. "Why I've brought you here."

She looked at me and said nothing.

"I'm not going to hurt you. Not seriously, love. But I want to show you something. I want to teach you something about yourself. Once I've shown this thing to you, if you still want to leave, I'll be happy to drive you home. But I have to show it to you. Because if I don't, someone else will, and I couldn't live with that."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're not struggling, you're not fighting," I said. "Have you noticed that? Do you know why? No? Then that's the first thing I'm going to show you."

I took a pair of bandage scissors from a table and walked over to her. She didn't move when I got behind her and unbuttoned her skirt, opened the zipper and pulled it down over her hips. She automatically lifted her feet so I could take it off her, and I picked it up and threw it over the arms of the bondage chair. She seemed to be running on autopilot. I don't think she was even aware of what she was doing.

I hated to cut her blouse off her, so I just peeled it back down over her shoulders. Standing so close to her, her perfume was in my nose, the soft expanse of smooth skin from her neck to her shoulders, perfect and flawless, just beneath my fingers. With a deep sigh I gave into my own desires and encircled her body with my arms, took her breasts in my hands and pressed my lips against her warm flesh.

I couldn't help it. I know I'm supposed to be a rough tough dom, but when I see a woman like this, tied and vulnerable, it always gets to me. Calista twisted uneasily as I pressed her back against me. Her arms stiffened and she pulled against the chains, and I knew she was enjoying the feel of her bonds, making sure she was tied tight. It was a show of struggling. She really wasn't going anywhere, and really don't think she wanted to go anywhere anyhow. She wanted to be right where she was, chained to that whipping frame, waiting to see what I was going to do to her.

"Hold still," I said, and then I reached up around in front of her with the scissors.

Her bra was still pushed up over her tits. I slid the scissors under the front and cut the cups apart, allowing her tits to spill free, then I pulled the useless garment down her arms. I dropped the scissors to the floor and took her tits in my hands and she gave a little whimper. Her tits are big, maybe mango sized, if you're into fruit. Big enough so she shows a natural cleavage even without a bra. Her nipples were just getting stiff as I took them between my thumb and index fingers and squeezed.

Calista gave a little moan and the chains clanked as she jerked her body to the side, trying to get away.

"Don't!" she cried. "That hurts!"

But I kept on squeezing till she gave a low little moan and arched her back against me. I knew the point where the hurt turns into something else, something she wanted very much to feel right now. She didn't know about it yet, but I did, and I felt her shudder as she grabbed the ropes with her hands, trying to twist away, My cock was hard now, and I let her press her ass against me as she twisted so she could feel it. She must have felt it, and from the way she moved she must have liked the way it felt. She wasn't as innocent as she wanted to appear.

I reluctantly let go of her tits and knelt down behind her. Her panty-clad ass was right by my face, the proud jut of her round buttocks with that little scrap of black panties stretched tight between them. The panties would have to go too, so I took the waist and peeled them down. With her hands tied, there wasn't much she could do to stop me, besides, by now I was getting the definite feeling that she was getting into it and was more than a little interested in what we were doing. She let me pull the panties down over her lean muscular legs, and when I tugged, she raised her feet one at a time so I could get them off. I felt their dampness as I threw them aside.

There were manacles down at the bottom of the frame for her feet. I buckled them around her ankles, then shortened the chain until her feet were about two feet apart, spread at about shoulder width. That was all the room I needed.

The view from down around her ankles was spectacular: the high, smooth globes of her buttocks swept down and under into the tight tuck between her legs where they gave way to the shaved, puffy lips of her pussy, reddened now by her recent whipping. Her labia were pressed together in a stubborn little pout.

I resisted the urge to jam my face between her asscheeks lick her like a bitch and stood up.

Aside from her shoes, she was naked now from the waist down. The only clothes she had on were her shredded blouse and her cut bra which were hanging around her elbows. The rest of her, from her sculpted back down to her jutting ass and down the long smooth columns of her legs was bare and open to me. She was all mine.

"Gorgeous bitch," I whispered. I put my arms out and ran my hands down her body, over the sides of her tits, her waist, the swell of her hips, then I around in front, over the tops of her thighs and up onto the shaved, baby-soft skin of her mound.

Calista gasped and I felt her stomach clench tight. I stroked the insides of her thighs on either side of her pussy as I talked to her.

"You don't really know what you are, do you baby?" I asked her. "You really don't know who you are inside, or why I'm doing this to you, do you?. I know you've had guys before, and that you know all about sex, but you still don't know anything. You've never felt a tenth of what you're capable of feeling, because no one's ever made you feel it, and no one's ever demanded that you feel it, and that's why we're here tonight. It's time to meet the real you, Calista. Time to let it all out, everything you've been hiding inside."

I let go of her and grabbed Junior from the corner. Junior was my own contraption: an old-fashioned microphone stand with a heavy, solid base that I'd picked up in a garage sale. There was a clamp on the shaft that held a horizontal steel rod just at her crotch height, and on the end of the rod was another clamp that held a ten-inch vibrator at about a forty-five degree angle up from the horizontal, just perfect for a girl to fuck herself on if she were bound hand and foot in a whipping frame like Calista was.

"What are you doing?" she asked as I pushed Junior into position so the vibe just touched her pussy. She pulled her hips back away from it as I piled some more dumbbell weights on the base to keep Junior steady.

"This might come in handy in a few minutes," I said.

"You're fucking sick," she said to me.

"Could be," I said. "And don't you love it?"

I selected a whip from the wall. The one I was looking for was a split-tailed birch with six fairly stiff leather-wrapped lashes, each about a foot long. They were woven into a tight, slick braided handle and would deliver a blow that was somewhere between a slap and a lash: the sting of a whip with the control of a crop.

Calista looked back over her shoulder to see what I was doing just as I gave her the first spank across her perfect ass, not too hard, just a little wake-up call. She gasped in surprise and instinctively shoved her hips forward, making her pussy slide up against Junior's waiting dildo.

Perfect. I walked around her and hit the switch and the vibrator started humming.

I came back behind her and hit her again, and again her hips jerked away, sending the tip of Junior's vibrating cock sliding along her crease.

"Ow! Damn it!" she moaned.

I didn't say anything. I held onto one of her wrists for balance and I started whipping that high, proud ass -- slappp!! smackk!! whapp!!-- and with each slap her hips would thrust out, causing her pussy to slide over Junior's humming vibe, briefly muffling his sound with her soft pussy.

I hit her maybe half a dozen times, then stopped. The vibe was buzzing and Calista was panting, her hands balled into helpless little fists. The vibrator had a big shiny spot on it, and her ass looked like it had been clawed by an angry tiger. The welts looked good on her.

"Come on, baby. You can do better than that."

I stared smacking her again, hard enough to make her feel it and leave a nice red patch on her ass, and pretty soon I found a rhythm that we could both work with, a good, solid, fucking rhythm, making her hips pump obscenely against the Junior's waiting vibrator every time the lashes slapped down across her ass.

After the last blow, her hips didn't swing back, and she kept her pussy pressed against that vibe, her buttocks clenched, her legs trembling with the strain. The hum of the vibrator was muffled by the wet, fleshy grip of her pussy.

"Ohhhh," she said. Then, "Oh, God!"

"Feels good, doesn't it, bitch?" I whispered in her ear. "Almost as good as it's going to feel when I get my hard cock into you and stretch that precious little pussy till you scream for joy."

I reached out with my toe and pushed Junior back a little, and Calista thrust her hips out after him, wanting more of that delicious torture.

"You like that baby? You like having that nasty things buzzing against your sweet pussy while I whip your ass? Does that feel good, you little slut?"

Calista moaned. I pushed Junior back another inch, so that now she really had to arch her back to press the top of her slit against the vibrator. Her arms were tied to the frame and as she pushed her hips forward she pulled her shoulders back, making her tits stick out. Her nipples were hard and swollen and pointing towards the corners of the ceiling. Even her areolas were swollen. Her tits were covered with goose bumps.

"Oh please," she said.

I grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, but Calista kept her pussy pressed hard against that vibrator. I could feel her body shaking with the strain.

"You see, baby. It's just like I said. You're a little whore inside. You try to be good, but your pussy likes it otherwise. She loves the nasty things I do to her. She loves it when I whip her and when I spank your tits and whip your ass. She wants it. Doesn't she, Calista? Tell me!"

"Yes! Oh God! Yes!" she screamed.

The strain was too much for her and she couldn't hold the pose. She fell back in the ropes and I started whipping her sore ass again, laying stripe upon stripe. I reached around her and laid a few lashes across her jiggling tits, and that did it for her. She threw her head back and started to shake.

"Oh God! Oh Fuck! I'm going to come! I'm going to come! I… I…"

The slaps from the whip never stopped. I whipped her ass, up between her legs, whipping the orgasm right out of her, demanding that she give it to me, and Calista shook and sobbed and gave me everything, just like I wanted.

Why does a woman get whipped? It's because you want her so much, isn't it? It's because her beauty and your need for her makes you so weak with desire that you have to lash out and show her who runs who. You have to make her feel what she makes you feel, how it hurts.

And it's because she's too good for you. Because on the outside she's a goddess and butter wouldn't melt in her mouth, but inside you know she's just as hot and hungry as you are; that she wants it just as much as you do, but she'd never tell you that. She'd never admit it, so you have to whip it out of her. You make love to her with the whip. You caress her and hurt her, stinging that delicate flesh and leaving welts over her tits and her ass, punishing her for the very thing she wants, laying lines of fire across the tops of her thighs and her pussy. And she gives herself to you. She gives her body to your rage and your hunger, lets it eat her up alive, takes the pain and feels it as pleasure, until finally she's taken all she can take, and like Calista, arched like a bow, every muscle shivering with the strain of pushing her spasming pussy out against the maddening buzz of the vibrator or clenched tight against the burning pain of the whip, she comes like a volcano, stretched tight between the pain and the pleasure, screaming out her slutty joy in her own helpless surrender to your lust.

I lost no time in getting her down from the frame, though my fingers were shaking with excitement. She fell into my arms, too weak to stand, and I pulled her over to the cheap bed, no more than a piece of plywood with a couple of blankets over it. I laid her down on it and stripped off my clothes like they were on fire. I pushed her knees up and apart and I sunk into her delicious warmth as her cunt was still trembling from her savage come.

"Oh God! Oh God!" she moaned as I fucked her like a wild man. I filled my hands with the hot meat of her ass, feeling the raised welts against my palms, sunk my fingers into her and pulled her to me to make her take it, all of it, every last aching millimeter.

She was powerless, without the strength to even move beneath me, but still I grabbed her wrists and held her down, wanting her to know who owned her, who possessed her. I fucked her like she'd never been fucked before, with a savage fury and a hunger for her that had her gasping for breath as my prick slammed into her like a piston in a diesel engine so that when I finally was ready to come—when I levered my self up off of her and grabbed hold of her tits in both my hands, glared down at her angelic face and told her I was about to come inside her—she found the sudden strength to dig her heels into the bed and thrust her open cunt up at me, open like a flower to accept the blistering heat of my wild ejaculation. I came into her again and again as she moaned and clutched at me, great ribbons of hot come sent spitting deep inside her, painting her very insides with my essence: all my anguish and need for her, all my angry love.