Popping the Prisoner Cherry

Popping the Prisoner Cherry

By Kelsea Grain

Steve cried out so suddenly, I jumped in my chair.

It had happened quickly. I wasn’t surprised. I’d spent the better part of the prior hour staring at his erection. His cock didn’t soften once; not with Sarah bound, gagged, and naked before him.

They made a game of it, I noticed, as though seeing how long they could go without fucking each other. It seemed to be a difficult game.

Steve knew Sarah’s every fetish, and when it came to fetishes, Sarah had an extensive array. He instinctively knew what body part to fondle, rub, tickle, or lick; furthermore he knew exactly when to do so. Although I knew who lurked beneath the mask, Steve was a gifted actor. He loomed over Sarah with eyes too animalistic to be human; tormented her body in ways too sadistic to be humane.

Sarah is equally gifted. She makes the perfect victim. Her squeals of pain, her sobs, that desperate look in her eyes—they’re all too convincing to be fake. The way her body writhes and wriggles as Steve straddles her stomach and pinches her nipples makes it truly appear as though she’s being truly tormented.

Sometimes, I have to remind myself that this is only a game.

This was my first time playing that game. I knew full well what Steve and Sarah did to one another. Sarah would come home at night with rope burns on her ankles and cuff-bites on her wrists, and make no attempt to conceal them. Years ago, it disturbed me, until I became accustomed to her habits; eventually, the prospect of being a victim aroused me.

I’d looked forward to this day forever. Abduction scenarios are surprisingly difficult to plan, when you put as much effort into them as Steve and Sarah do.

For example, when I first suggested watching them, I had planned on simply standing off to the side.

“But that would be awkward,” Sarah had protested. When it came to awkward, I had figured that watching my sister get tied up and fucked by her boyfriend would be awkward, but that’s Sarah for you. “If we’re gonna do this, you have to be a part of it.”

So here I sat, nibbling nervously on the cleave gag in my mouth. I’d kind of gotten lost in fantasy, picturing myself tied spread-eagle to that mattress on the floor, imagining Steve’s cock in my pussy. He cried out and, startled, I jumped against the handcuffs binding my wrists to the backing, a stark reminder of my role in this perverse role-play:

Sarah and I had been kidnapped together. I had ridden here in the trunk (where Sarah usually did), feigning unconsciousness while Sarah lay sprawled across the back seat. I managed to stay limp when Steve carried me inside and secured me here. Rather than simply opening my eyes, I groaned and rolled my head groggily, shaking off the effects of the chloroform. I don’t know that I’m the best actress, but I try.

The story would go like this: Steve would strip, molest, and have his way with Sarah; but he would enjoy her so much, he would take her into another room and his companion would see to me. This had been a tough decision. Originally, Steve would just do Sarah, and then have his way with me, but this seemed a little too awkward. Not because my sister would be watching, but because I didn’t know if I could avoid being hung-up about having sex with her boyfriend.

The alternative? One of Steve’s friends had volunteered to take his place.

Steve had asked if I wanted to meet him prior to our ‘date’. I declined. I find that there is something quite stimulating about being ravished by a stranger. My only stipulation had been that my molester be sexy.

Steve collapsed atop my sister, casually pumping against her crotch. Semen gushed from her pussy, dribbling down the crevice of her bum, and pooled on the mattress. Sarah pretended to cry, but she was very obviously enjoying it, judging by the way her hips rose from the mattress to meet his every gentle push.

“Mmm…you’re a good fuck, baby…” He cooed, staring Sarah in the eyes, brushing her hair with the tips of his fingers. Gagged with duct tape, Sarah could only whimper. “I was gonna take your little friend over there for a ride…” he nodded toward me, “…but I think I’m starting to like you.”

Sarah shifted gears then. She and Steve had worked out a system of ‘tones’ she could hum in lieu of a safe word, for times like these, when she was gagged. Think of Close Encounters of the Third Kind. Sarah hummed ‘Mary had a little lamb’, and Steve’s persona fell away instantly, like shattered glass falling from the pane.

Steve withdrew from her pussy, and peeled the tape from Sarah’s face. She breathed a sigh of relief.

“Ohh…Steve, that was amazing! …I like being watched…it makes you seem more depraved and dangerous.”

He smiled and looked over at me. “Did you like it, Kelsea?”

I nodded bashfully.

Sarah, who was also looking at me while Steve freed her wrists and ankles, giggled. “She’s blushing!”

They both stared, which only caused the heat in my cheeks to redden. I was humiliated.

Sarah sat up and leaned close to Steve’s ear. I don’t think I was supposed to hear them.

“Hey…go tell Brad to get ready, umkay? I’ll be on the mattress when I’m ready for you to come in.”

“Sure.” With that, Steve got up, pulled his boxers on, and headed out the door, stretching. As the door shut, Sarah sat up, rubbed her wrists, and walked slowly toward me.

“So…you really liked it?”

I expected her to ungag me. Instead, she straddled my calves and sat, our faces only inches apart. I nodded again.

Sarah smiled, but not like she usually did. This was a mischievous grin. “…You look really sexy, all tied up like this. I wish I’d been the one to kidnap you.”

I didn’t really know how to respond. Being dominated by Sarah had never crossed my mind. Maybe it was the arousal talking, but it wasn’t a bad idea.

“Okay, serious now. Steve and I will be in the other room, so just remember, you’re not really alone with him. He’s read over your list, so he knows what’s off-limits. But still, you want to be safe, so: if you have to, hum ‘Mary had a little lamb’, and he’ll stop instantly. But if you can’t—like, if he’s tickle-torturing you or something—take this.”

Sarah leaned against me, her naked breasts rubbing against blouse, and put something in my hand. It was one of her balled-up socks. “This is the same kinda thing,” Sarah explained. “If you get too uncomfortable, drop it. Doing so means ‘something is wrong, and I need you to stop’, umkay?”

“Mmm-kay,” I affirmed. “…Muv the murrur?”

Sarah had been preparing to dismount me, but stopped. “Hmm?”

“Murrur,” I repeated, nodding to the mirror at the head of the mattress. “Muv ut?”

“Ohh!” She cried, standing and heading for the mirror. “But you’re sure?”

“Wuh woulnit I buh?”

Sarah held the edges of the mirror, which was presently perpendicular to me, but paused. “I only ask because it might be a little…I dunno, scary? It’s one thing to be all tied up. It’s another thing to see yourself all tied up.”

I shrugged, prompting Sarah to do the same. Many of our gestures are identical.

Sarah hefted the mirror and moved it directly across the room from me. Originally, Steve and Sarah had used it to watch themselves fucking. Sarah had sat in Steve’s lap and stared at it, watching herself bounce roughly up and down atop the thick cock lodged inside her.

But I wanted to see what they had been looking at. I wanted to see myself from their perspective. I wanted to see Kelsea Grain, shackled to a chair, helpless. Sure, Steve knew that he wouldn’t be having his way with me, but in the heat of a roleplay, what had he been thinking?

Look at her over there…as soon as I’m done with this one, she’s gonna get it next…

Just imagining that made me very, very wet.

Nude, Sarah lay down on the mattress and examined herself for a moment, before closing her eyes. Then, all was silent.

Steve waited about five minutes before coming back in, toting the supplies he needed to transport Sarah. She lay quietly as he knelt on the mattress beside her, rolled her onto her stomach, and zip-tied her hands behind her back.

“Please…no more…” Sarah whimpered. She and Steve were back in character.

“If you weren’t so sexy, you’d get a break,” he teased, wrenching open Sarah’s mouth and pushing a shiny red ballgag inside. “But you’re so beautiful…I just can’t get enough!”

‘Kelsea-the-curious-sister’ had ceased to exist as soon as I saw myself in that mirror. I’d become ‘Kelsea-the-captive’, and transitioning into character proved easier than I’d anticipated. “Dun hrt hur!” I squealed through the gag.

Steve looked at me, dropping out of character only momentarily. But when he saw the look I gave him, the pleading, sexy puppy-dog-eyes, he knew at once what I was doing. “Don’t worry, sweetie…I arranged for a babysitter. You don’t have to miss any of the fun.”

“Nnnn…ples, led us guh…” I pleaded. Steve ignored me, zip-tying Sarah’s ankles and taking her into his arms. Then he hefted her over his shoulder.

“Surah!” I cried as he carried her toward the door.

She lifted her head. The sight of her tied up and slumped over that man’s shoulder was indescribably sexy. She looked at me, that desperate, terrified look in her eyes, and I actually felt afraid for her, afraid of what Steve would do to her. This time, I didn’t try to quell the fear; I wanted to feel afraid.

“Kll-zee!” Sarah squealed, just before she and Steve disappeared through the door. Then, I was alone.

Brad didn’t emerge for a while. My heart pounded in my chest. Am I really going through with this, I couldn’t help but wonder. Is this really a good idea?

I looked myself over in the mirror once again, and came to understand what Sarah was talking about. There I sat, in teasingly-short denim cutoffs and a blouse that I’d tied up like Daisy Mae from Dukes of Hazzard, handcuffed to a chair and gagged. It didn’t strike me until then that something very bad actually could happen to me in here, ‘list’ or otherwise.

I thought about the list, mentally re-reading it. Had I covered everything? Had I left anything out? While writing it, I had kind of lost track of what I was doing. It had started as a list, which turned into sentences, which actually became something of a written bondage fantasy. I hadn’t been specific at that point; I didn’t want today to feel too scripted.

Though it was too late now. Taking a deep breath, I looked myself over, and listened for my captor’s approach.

Sarah didn’t hum, but Steve stopped anyway.

He’d been fucking her again; laid her down on the floor and started doing her doggy-style. But Sarah wasn’t getting into it; she’d gone curiously silent. He unbuckled her ball-gag.

“What is it?” She asked, turning her head. “Is something wrong?”

Steve pulled out and shrugged. “You tell me. You seem…I don’t know, distant, like you aren’t enjoying yourself.”

Sarah clumsily fell to the side, and managed to sit up. “No…I’m enjoying this…”

Steve wasn’t convinced. Raping Sarah was only enjoyable for him when Sarah was enjoying it too, because it was pretend. But if she wasn’t enjoying having sex with him, didn’t that mean they weren’t pretending?

“I’m gonna untie you, okay? We’ll just talk for a little while…”

He moved to do so, but she kicked at him gently. “No, I like being tied up, you know that. But…I don’t know, it’s Kelsea.”

Steve furrowed his brow. “Do you know something I don’t? If Kelsea is having any doubts about what’s about to happen to her, we need to stop it right now.”

“No…it’s not that…”

“No, Sarah, listen very closely to me. If Kelsea told you she was getting cold feet, it’s imperative that we stop Brad. If we don’t, he’s going to go in there and hurt your sister very badly. And not in a kinky way, either.”

“Stevie! It’s not that. I just talked to her; she seemed okay. Did you hear her while we were leaving? She was definitely getting into it.”

“So what’s wrong then?”

“It’s me,” Sarah admitted. “I’m scared for her. Not that she’s in any danger, but…it’s her first time, you know?”

Steve pondered it for a moment. “So you’re kind of like…a worried parent? Like it’s your child’s first day of school?”

“Exactly!” Sarah chirped. “But this is different…she’s all alone. She doesn’t have any classmates. It’s just she and Brad.”

A sly smile crossed Steve’s lips. Sarah couldn’t see it, but the motion beneath the mask was unmistakable. “So…you want to be her classmate?”

Sarah shook her head (somewhat to Steve’s dismay). “No…I don’t know what I want. It might ruin the fantasy for her.”

“…Okay, here’s what we’ll do. We’ll turn off the lights in the kitchen, and watch from there. Kelsea will be too distracted to notice us.”

Sarah chewed on her lip for a minute. “Yeah…that sounds okay!” Her face began to change.

Steve recognized her expression. It was one of Sarah’s tells. The gears were turning in her head; she’d found a way to incorporate it into the fantasy.

“…That’s creepy…” Sarah whimpered, with the Voice of the Victim. “You’re going to watch your accomplice have sex with Kelsea while making me suck your cock? Please…that’s awful…”

Steve cupped his hand over Sarah’s mouth and pushed her to the floor, leering down at her. “Let’s go to the kitchen…if you’re lucky, maybe you’ll even get to watch. Now…not a peep.”

He collected a clump of Sarah’s hair and pulled her to her feet, then used the hand over her mouth to keep her head tight to his chest while he carried her into the other room.

They ran into Brad. He was just a few steps from the doorway, but stopped when he saw Steve and Sarah enter. Steve lowered her feet to the floor as Brad approached.

“What’s this?” Brad cooed, placing his hands on Sarah’s waist. She looked up at him over the top of Steve’s hand. “We gonna share?”

“Nah,” Steve shook his head. “We’re gonna watch you do her. Well…I’ll be watching you. This one will be too busy making sure I enjoy it.”

“Sounds good…” Brad said, shrugging.

Sarah appreciated Brad’s ability to blend in with the fantasy. She loved standing there, tied hand and foot, between the two men as they discussed fucking her.

“Sit down,” Steve commanded. Thus accomplished, he sat on the floor beside her, leaned back, and navigated her head to his crotch.

Sarah resisted his hand, which was clamped around the nape of her neck, but eventually gave in. His hardened cock squeezed between her lips and she began to suck, watching Brad depart out of the corner of her eye.

I couldn’t help but change the scene.

It had taken longer for Brad to enter the room than I expected. Being left alone so long got me thinking: how do I react when he comes in?

A thousand possibilities fluttered through my head. At last, I came to a logical conclusion: don’t react.

This fit into the ‘storyline’: after leaving with Sarah, I imagined that Steve had returned and chloroformed me, to keep me sedated until his buyer arrived.

Because that’s what Brad was—a buyer. Steve had decided that Sarah was all the pussy he needed, and just sold me to one of his seedy clients.

So everything was dark when I heard those heavy footfalls strolling through the doorway. Without a word, they approached me, and I felt fingers combing through my hair. Then my head was lifted, and I could feel his gaze on my face.

“Wakie-wakie, darling…” Cooed a voice.

That was my cue. My eyes fluttered open, and slowly, I focused on him.

Like Steve, he wore a black ski mask. And, like I requested, he was clad head-to-toe in black—black trousers, T-shirt, and freshly-polished boots.

Also like I requested, he was very sexy. I couldn’t help but trace the curves of his finely-chiseled muscles as he loomed over me.

Though there was one thing I hadn’t specified—the tent in his pants. It was a lovely surprise, however.

“Unnh!” I cried, my eyes snapping open. Then I let loose—the rope binding my feet to the crossbeam under the seat tightened around my ankles as I attempted to kick; the handcuffs sang out as they clattered against the backing.

“What’s the matter, cutie?” Two fingers curled up around my chin, holding my head in place. “Nothin’ to be scared of…”

I truly panicked then. My heartbeat nearly crumpled my ribcage. Just imagining this sort of helplessness is one thing, but one underestimates the nature of true helplessness. I couldn’t defend myself, I couldn’t cry out for help—I could only sit absolutely motionless in that chair, staring at the man with whom I was intended to have sex with.

The sock never left my hand, however. I clutched it in a white-knuckle fist.

“Snatching you wasn’t hard, sweetie…” He teased, “…One of my easier jobs.”

I furrowed my brow. “…Ooh butt me…” I said quietly.

“I bought you?” He whispered.

“Furm Stevan.”

“…That’s right, Steve said you two were easy to kidnap…ripe and ready for cock!”

I shook my head in protest, curls of strawberry-blond hair whipping back and forth before my eyes.

Brad retreated to the small table in the corner of the room, to my left. He produced a pair of scissors and snipped the empty air before my eyes.

“Dun duh thess,” I pleaded with him, watching his meaty fingers clutch the knot between my breasts. “Pless…”

He ignored me, snipping the garment open and letting the segments fall away. The cool air sent a shudder through my breasts and a surge of arousal through my body.

“These are great!”  My nipples were already hard, but being exposed turned them into a pair of pebbles protruding from my cleavage. Brad helped himself, painfully pinching and rolling them between his fingertips.

I whimpered softly, squirming in the chair. I was honestly attempting to remove my breasts from his reach, if only for a moment, but I was pinned. I simply couldn’t protect myself from his sadistic lust.

My face scalding red with embarrassment, I turned away from Brad, which only prompted him to further violate me. His fingers popped my jeans open and wriggled beneath the waistband of my panties, finding the soft mound beneath. I’d shaved myself bald this morning and his cool, dry fingers on the sensitive flesh sent shivers through my whole body.

He gently masturbated me. I could only squeak in protest and shake my head. He probably thought I was in character, but truthfully, I was dangerously close to orgasming and I didn’t want to admit to myself that I was enjoying it yet.

But I could feel the waves of pleasure pulsating through my clit; my channel becoming slick with lubrication. It was imminent. I let the sock fall free from my hand.

Seemingly before it hit the floor and bounced against the bottom of my foot, Brad’s hand was out of my pants. Both hands were raised, like a criminal would do when a cop trains his gun on him.

“Uds uhkay,” I explained quietly, “Uh jus dun wan t’cum yud.”

Brad nodded in affirmation, and placed the sock back in my hand. While he was back there, he began to release my wrists.

“Let’s get started, baby…” He growled, clutching my wrist in a death-grip as soon as it was free. “I want to get acquainted with every part of your sexy little body…”

As far as I was concerned, Brad had proved himself. I had confidence that if something actually did go wrong, I was in good hands.

With some of my concerns alleviated, I looked forward to those ‘good hands’ touching me all over, as they dragged me to the mattress in the center of the room.

“She dropped it!” Sarah exclaimed, jerking her head up suddenly.

Steve, who’d been thoroughly enjoying her oral attention, snapped his head forward with his eyes bulging out of his head. “Jeez Sarah!” He rasped in a loud whisper. “Watch the teeth!”

“Sorry, but Kelsea dropped my sock. That means something wrong.”

Steve looked at Brad. He had his hands up, as though showing Kelsea that they were empty. Luckily, neither of them seemed to have heard Steve.

They watched for a moment. They spoke quietly to one another, and then Brad placed Sarah’s sock back in Kelsea’s hand and they resumed again.

“What was he doing?” Steve asked.

“Touching her pussy…I’m not sure what happened. Maybe she was just enjoying it so much, it slipped?”

Steve assessed the situation. Presently, Brad held Kelsea’s hands behind her back, and was forcing her to walk to the mattress. He could hear her begging and pleading for mercy.

“They’re fine, Sarah.”

Sarah relaxed. “Oh…okay, just checking.”

She lay her head in Steve’s lap, ran her tongue up the length of his erection, and rested against his stomach. “I wonder what she’s thinking about?”

Steve rubbed Sarah’s collarbone gently. “Well…what were you thinking about, the first time I tied you up?”

“Hmmm…well, I was terrified. I was afraid that everything leading up to that had just been an act. I couldn’t help but wonder if you were just going to tie me up, and then leave me in your basement so you could have sex with me every day.”

Steve frowned. “You know, I think I remember you suggesting that I do that once.”

Sarah blushed. “Well…yeah, after I got to know you, sure. But at first, I was afraid you would actually keep me as a sex slave. Like…you would chain me to a wall, and feed me every day, and force me to have sex with you. I was afraid of being your pet.”

“So…do you think Kelsea is afraid of that?”

Sarah shook her head. “No, because we’re here. She trusts us. She knows nothing will happen to her. I didn’t have that…it was just you and me in your bedroom.”

Steve smiled. “You had that. You just didn’t know it.”

Sarah cocked her head, examining him quizzically. “There was someone else there?”

“Sure was.” Steve scratched the back of his neck. Sarah recognized it as one of his tells; it meant he was nervous. “I liked you a lot, when I first met you. I thought you were gorgeous, and funny, and sweet. Once I found out that you were into being tied up, I was ecstatic, but I knew it would drive me wild. I was afraid that I’d get so lost in the fantasy, I wouldn’t hear the safeword if you said it. So I had a third party oversee the whole situation.”

Sarah was shocked. All this time, she remembered being alone the when Steve first kidnapped her. “…Who was it?” It was all she could think to ask.

“Who do you think?”

Sarah looked in the other room. “Brad?”

Steve nodded. “He stayed out of sight, and kept an eye on you. If things got out-of-hand, he would have interrupted. He knew how much I care about you, and how important it was that your first time being my victim was good.”

“Wow…” Sarah’s head was spinning; she couldn’t believe her ears. “…I feel like I should thank him, somehow…”

Steve gestured into the other room. Presently, Brad had Kelsea’s legs straight up in the air, dragging her shorts off. He’d already tied her hands behind her back, and Kelsea was putting on a good show. “I think we’re thanking him right now…”

Sarah watched her sister’s legs fall to the mattress. Kelsea had been rendered absolutely naked with the exception of flirtatious pink panties. With her feet free, Kelsea squealed and kicked at Brad, whom quickly fell atop her shins and began re-tying her ankles.

“This is really sexy…” Sarah opined quietly. She looked over her shoulder at Steve. “Can it be my turn now…?” She asked, no longer in character.

“Of course, sweetie,” Steve replied warmly. “How do you want me to do it?”

“Slowly,” Sarah said firmly, sitting up and shimmying toward Steve, whom spread his legs. Her tailbone ground against his saliva-slicked cock. “I don’t want to come yet…I have an idea for how this night might end.”

Steve grinned. If Sarah was getting sexy ideas, it was better to pamper her. The more aroused she became, the kinkier her ideas would be—and the better it would be for Steve, and probably Brad.

His left hand slithered between Sarah’s arm and chest, and began massaging her breast. His right worked its way between Sarah’s parsed thighs and fiddled with her clit. Sarah cooed softly, letting her head fall back on Steve’s shoulder.

“You know what would have been sexy…?” She asked in a vague tone.

“What’s that, baby?”

Sarah’s bound hands, which were level with his cock, found his girth and began to stroke the erect member. “If, instead of protecting me, Brad had been there to take advantage of me…like, he was just waiting for you to get me helpless and vulnerable…and then the two of you just started taking turns with me.”

Steve kissed at her neck. “How do you know that’s not what we’re doing right now, Sarah…?”

Sarah’s lips rose into a devious grin. “Well…if that’s the case, then I should warn Kelsea, shouldn’t I?”

Steve got the hint. He cupped her mouth with his warm palm and continued to finger her. Sarah relaxed into the grip of utter defenselessness and vanished into the depths of sexual bliss.

After Brad dragged my pants off, I almost dropped the sock. I had children’s songs stuck in my head.

But I persisted, even as I lay mostly-naked as my fully-clothed captor crawled over my body. He was on all fours, making me feel even more trapped. On top of being tied hand and foot with a rag in my mouth, now I had the muscular arms and legs of a very horny stranger compressing the mattress all around my form.

Brad lowered himself atop me, roughly grinding his erection against my thighs. Not a trace of respect could be found in his eyes; all I saw there was pure, carnal lust.

I writhed uselessly beneath him, squealing, pleading him to stop. These protests weren’t entirely simulated. I was very uncomfortable, being so intimate with him, and really did want him to stop. But I was also aroused beyond words, practically dripping with anticipation. And let’s face it, if there wasn’t any discomfort, how could I consider this a rape fantasy?

So I let him push my limits; I let myself taking giant steps out of my comfort zone. The thrill of doing so only made me more frightened, but being so frightened made me so much hornier.

He reached to my pussy again, but didn’t rub me. He simply clutched a wad of flesh with one hand and forced me to look into his eyes with the other. “This sweet little morsel is gonna be mine real soon…”

With one swift motion, he yanked his hand away, tearing my panties completely from my waist. The cruel, heartless way he did so nearly made me orgasm right there.

“Oooh…nice and fresh…” He taunted, parting my lips with his fingers and sniffing curiously. I groaned in humiliation, my head falling to the side. My face had gone scarlet; I could see myself in the mirror.

But seeing myself laying there, my captor bent over my thighs, his face buried against my crotch, was truly exhilarating. I was watching a scene from a perfect porno.

Brad’s tongue jolted me from my trance. It darted between my thighs and grazed my clit. “Tasty!” He exclaimed. “Nice and wet…ready for my cock, aren’tcha?”

This is it, I thought to myself, watching him stand and unbuckle his pants. He’s gonna do it. He’s gonna fuck me. No…he’s gonna rape me.

“I don’t think it’s wet enough down there,” Brad sneered, dropping his pants and boxers to his ankles. His rock-hard cock was a glorious Thing to behold. His straining hard-on stood straight up, desperate to plunge into my warm, wet channel. I couldn’t take my eyes off it.

Brad casually walked to the side of the mattress and knelt, throwing my head to the side and releasing the knot of my gag. My jaw had become quite sore.

Gasping, I could put up only weak resistance as he clutched my head in both hands and brought my head to his cock.

How I longed to simply fall against his crotch and fill my mouth with that monumental symbol of masculinity and lust! I craved its taste; hungered for the dirtiness of being forced to suck his dick until a gallon of semen slid down my throat!

But that was not the game. The rules dictated that I had to resist it, and I did. He pressed the head of that enormous dick against my lips, but I squeezed my eyes shut and sealed my lips, shaking my head in denial.

Without hesitation, he hit me; slapped me square across the face. It wasn’t hard enough to bruise—Brad was playing by the rules, too—but it stung like nothing else. He mashed his cock against my lips again. “Open your mouth. Do it.”

Again I denied him, and again I was hit. On the third time, I consented, accepting his engorged dick. The bland, salty taste of male genitalia filled my mouth, puffed out my cheeks, choking me.

The urge to gag was quickly suppressed. In fact, I welcomed that reflex. It served to remind me that my entire throat was being used for pure sexual pleasure. And his dick fit quite snugly in my throat, as though designed for his gargantuan size and shape.

“Ohhh…yeah…that’s good…suck my cock real good…get me nice and ready for that hot pussy…”

Brad’s encouragements only made me want his dick more. I sucked like a terrified teenage girl might. If I suck him good enough, maybe he won’t have sex with me.

In my mind, I was the captive, sucking cock in hopes of being freed from my imprisonment. But in actuality, there’s nowhere else I would have preferred to be, or anything else I’d rather be doing.

It took every bit of effort in Steve’s body to resist the urge to fuck Sarah there and then.

Her body was limp against him. All the life had drained from her. Sarah’s mind and spirit were wholly inundated in sexual exhilaration.

And the idea she’d just come up with nearly caused Steve to blow his load.

“Stop touching me,” Sarah said calmly, with the coolness of a princess. Though Steve was always cast as the aggressor in their fantasies, and Sarah the victim, Sarah was actually in command. It was their unspoken understanding.

Obediently, Steve removed his hands from Sarah’s pussy. “So…how do you want to do this?”

“Call him.”

“You aren’t afraid it’ll ruin the fantasy for Kelsea?”

“No. It’ll make it better. She’ll become his dirty little secret. She’ll know that whoever is on the other end doesn’t know that Brad is getting a blowjob. It’ll make her feel like an object; it’ll make her feel like nothing more than a pencil sharpener. Also, it will set up the circumstances for what’s going to come.”

Steve didn’t ask questions. He produced his phone and began to dial Brad’s number when Sarah interrupted him.

“Wait. I know what’s going to happen, and I’m going to do whatever’s necessary to stop it. Ensure that I don’t.”

As Steve punched the final number, he reached around Sarah’s face and covered her mouth. Contented, Sarah’s eyes went wide, and she became the victim once more.

“You make a sound, I’ll fuck you until you don’t have a pussy left.”

I attempted to swallow hard. All I could do was lay there and suck Brad’s cock while he answered his phone. His responses were terse.

“Hello? …Yeah. …Is that right? ……All right.”

Then he hung up. I was inclined to ask him who it was until I remembered that I wasn’t Brad’s girlfriend. I was his slave, his toy, and defying his will could result in catastrophic consequences.

Without a word, he pulled out of my mouth. “Time to finish up, sweetie. Open them legs.”

“Wait,” I interrupted, letting the sock fall to the mattress. Brad looked hesitant. I suspected he was afraid that, after all this, I wasn’t going to let him fuck me.

“What is it?”

Am I crazy? Is this really a good idea?

Sheer sexual hunger impaired my judgment and took absolute control of my will. It was a tough decision, electing to wholly abandon myself to the mercy of this man without any recourse.

“…Gag me. Gag me with that.”

“…This is what you really want? I might not hear you humming in the next few minutes…”

“I won’t be humming. Do it.”

Brad rolled me on my back. “Please…don’t fuck me,” I begged him. “I’ll suck your cock all night…just please, don’t make me have sex with you…”

Brad ignored me. He quickly untied my feet and then knelt between my knees, preventing me from closing them again. He snatched the sock and grabbed my face, squeezing my cheeks. I opened my mouth and allowed the soft wad to wedge between my teeth.

“You listen to me, girl,” Brad hissed at me, leaning close. “I’m gonna fuck you all night. That gag leaves your mouth, I’ll fuck you ‘til tomorrow night.”

I spit out the sock.

“Fair enough.” He pushed it back in, and this time, secured it in place with the bandanna I’d been gagged with earlier. I tried to use my tongue to eject the sock again, but it was held safely in place.

Brad began to masturbate me again; I didn’t try to stop him He brought me to the edge of orgasm and then pushed his way inside me.

The sex was savagely depraved. With his cock fully inside me, his hands found my breasts, and I was simply fucked. He clawed my breasts and pumped in and out of me. I came almost instantly, which I concealed with horrified, frightened squeals. The rest of the time, I wriggled and writhed, desperate to escape from beneath him. That was the game we played; his goal was to come, and my goal was to stop being fucked.

But unlike most games, I wished to lose. I did.

I came twice more before he did. Our lustmaking was quick and dirty, just as I’d imagined. He just fucked me until his cock twitched and semen erupted forth, jettisoning deep into my pussy.

Even after I’d been fucked, Brad maintained his character. There was no snuggling; he didn’t ask if it was good. He didn’t care about me at all. He stood, pulled up his pants, and headed for the kitchen—probably for a beer. As for me, I was left on the mattress like a discarded condom.

I thought it was over. To tell you the truth, I was kind of sad. The ordeal had been everything Sarah had promised and then some; the trouble is, sex of that sort is necessarily quick, and thus the fantasy ended with similar abruptness.

Until Steve and Sarah arrived.

They came in behind Brad. Sarah, still naked, was being carried in Steve’s arms, completely in character. All three of them were in character, which was fine by me; I wasn’t ready for Kidnapped Kelsea to go away just yet.

My legs were splayed, as Brad had left me. Sarah saw the gooey remains of our despicable merging splattered all over my loins. “What did you do to her, you asshole?”

“The same thing I’m about to do to you!” Steve replied, dropping her on the mattress beside me.

We became a pair of Raggedy Anns then. My ankles were cuffed together and I was forced to kneel with my back to Sarah, who was also kneeling. We were on our tip-toes; the soles of her feet were soft against my own. Hers were criss-crossed with thin welts; I could tell that Steve had whipped her sometime earlier. Secretly I hoped Brad would do the same to mine.

My hands were untied and brought around to Sarah’s tummy, where they where also cuffed. Hers were manacled beneath my breasts, and there we knelt, back-to-back.

Brad retrieved a roll of duct tape from the table and smeared a length across my eyes. Without breaking the strip, he wrapped it around Sarah’s head as well. Ultimately, our heads were taped together, and we were both blind.

“What are you doing to us?” I heard Sarah cry, while the gag was removed from my mouth. Then, I only heard a muffled “MMMPH!” as something was stuck between her lips. I doubted that she’d been gagged.

I got my answer soon enough. As I opened my mouth to pick up where Sarah left off, someone’s erect penis was jabbed into my mouth. The tart taste of vaginal juices played across my tongue. At first, I figured it was Brad’s cock, but then again, who knows? Who’s to say that Steve hadn’t been in the other room, fucking Sarah all this time, and that it wasn’t his penis in my mouth?

Frankly, I didn’t care. The fantasy had become realer than I ever could have hoped. Sure, I trusted Steve, but then again, a man in the throes of primal lust is not the same man. The only person I could truly trust was tied to me and just as helpless to resist whatever travesties these men had in mind.

Sarah’s hair tickled my back as she bobbed in and out, pleasuring whichever man was helping himself to her mouth. I did the same. The cock between my lips was mammoth; it could have been either of them.

There we knelt, Sarah and I, obediently kneeling before the unquestionable might of our captors, our mouths filled to capacity with drooling cocks.

Suddenly, the feeling of saggy, squishy balls was against my bottom lip. The cock shuddered, pulsated, and erupted with violence, splattering semen all across the back of my throat. I swallowed most of it but let the rest dribble down my lips and chin. It felt dirty and degrading, and I suspected it was very sexy to our onlookers.

Sarah’s rapist finished up with her mouth, and without any further use for them, our mouths were taped similarly to the way we were blindfolded. It felt like Sarah and I were mummified together.

I was pushed abruptly backward, causing Sarah to squeal with dismay as she was bent uncomfortably forward. My feet were yanked out from beneath my bum and pulled out straight; the process was repeated with Sarah.

Calloused palms clutched my ankles and wrenched my legs apart. I suspect the same was done with Sarah. Her backside began to bump against me as someone pumped her pussy. A semi-erect penis poked at the entry to my vagina and, without wasting any time, plunged inside me.

I came. We both did, I’m sure of it. There we sat, two sisters blindfolded, gagged, and bound back-to-back while a pair of men fucked us. I wish I’d had the presence of mind to request a video camera, so I could have seen this from the outside.

We were lifted about six inches from the mattress. Sarah and I moaned and whimpered, luxuriating in the sounds of each other’s feeble cries as we were viciously fucked. The men didn’t speak a word, they grunted and growled at us.

It took a while for my captor to finish up with me. When the men got tired of supporting us, Sarah and I were plunked on our sides, our legs pulled open, and the raping resumed. Her body was hot and wet against me and our backs seemed to squeak together.

The penis inside Sarah came. I knew that because a stray jet of hot come sprayed my bum. Whoever was inside me took this opportunity to roll me onto my back, leaving Sarah facedown beneath both of us.

Having finished fucking Sarah, her rapist moved to the foot of the bed and began admiring her feet. I know this because mine were pulled together—forcing me to wrap my legs around the ones between my knees—and a tongue played across my soles from time to time. I don’t have a foot fetish the way Sarah does, but the fact that my body could be used for pleasure in so very many ways drove me crazy.

Once the cock inside me finished up, I could tell it was almost over. Sarah and I were laid on our sides, our ankles bound together. I knew for certain that Steve had a fetish, so when I felt a face pressed against the quartet of soles, I wasn’t surprised to soon hear a distinct ‘slapping’ sound, which was eventually followed by the disgusting sensation of goo being deposited all over our feet.

I wondered if Brad would do the same, but once Steve finished up down there, they seemed at a loss for what to do next. I figured they were spent.

Finally, it seemed, I was too. I hummed the song, and they began to untie us.

Sarah had the presence of mind to bring a change of clothes for me. She always brought a set for herself. My other clothes—the cheap, flirty clothes that I hadn’t minded having cut off—lay in a pile and were thrown in the trash.

The breakdown occurred suddenly. I just started crying. I curled up into a ball and didn’t want to talk to anyone. I was very grateful that Sarah was there; I don’t know what I would have done if it had just been me and Brad.

“What’s wrong, Kelsea?” She asked in a soft, soothing tone. We had both washed up and changed into new clothes. She draped her arm around my shoulders and pulled me close to her.

“I…I’m not sure,” I replied, truthfully.

“It’s okay,” Sarah said consolingly. “I cried the first time, too. It’s scary. But you know what? You’re happy. You’ve been through a scary experience. You were never in any real danger. How about I bring Brad back in?”

“No!” I cried abruptly. “…I don’t want to see him again. I never want to see him again. I want to remember this night just the way it is.”

“Nuh-uh,” Sarah chided, shaking her head. “You have to see Brad for what he is. You have to accept this for what it is…just a scene. Brad was just an actor. The only way to accept that you were acting is to accept that he was acting.”

“…Okay…but in a little while, yeah?”

Sarah laughed softly. “Okay, that’s fine.”

I knew it would have to happen eventually. Looking back on that night, I’m glad Sarah forced me to face him.

“Doin’ okay?” He asked me, once I consented to allow Sarah to gesture him in.

I was afraid of him at first, but he had taken off the mask and was sipping a glass of whiskey. I found him very handsome, actually; Brad had movie-star good looks.

I nodded. “Yeah…” I sniffled. “Just…I don’t know, recovering.”

He laughed and took a seat in a nearby recliner. “It’s okay. This is very common. Just take it easy, and take all the time you need. If you have any questions, let me know.”

Just hearing this changed my perception of Brad. I didn’t really have any questions; he knew as well as I did what happened that night. We were just four people that had gotten together to play a game.

We were all up for most of the night. Once I calmed down—with Sarah’s help, of course—it actually became much like any other night. Sarah and I became stupid with wine coolers; Brad and Steve killed off a bottle of Jack Daniels. We listened to music, and played drinking games.

I didn’t go to bed until about three. By then, I’d become quite enamored with Brad and we went to bed together. He didn’t have a problem going to sleep with his clothes on.

And that was how the night ended. I lay in Brad’s arms, very comfortable; Sarah and Steve slept in the other bedroom. I thought about everything that happened, and couldn’t help but surreptitiously masturbate after Brad had gone to sleep, but he didn’t find out about that.

Smiling to myself, I closed my eyes, and thought about my first night being abducted. It had its ups and downs, but when I really thought about it, I wouldn’t have changed a thing.

To this day, I still wouldn’t.